Mothers of great men; sketches

Class

Book

CopyrigME?.

A

GBHRIGHT DEPOSED

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

SKETCHES

BY
JULIA M. ALEXANDER

THE OBSERVER PRINTING HOUSE, INC.

CHARLOTTE, N. C.

1916

•;

IP

COPYRIGHT

1916

By JULIA M. ALEXANDER

iC

JAN 30 1917

'CI.A455372

TO MOTHERS

OF

EVERY TIME AND NATION

WHO HAVE TRAINED THEIR SONS

TO SERVE WELL,

GOD, AND THEIR COUNTRY
THIS BOOK IS REVERENTLY INSCRIBED

CONTENTS

PAGE
I

Mary Ball Washington, Mother of George

Washington II

II
Margaret Cox Ruskin, Mother of John

Ruskin 37

III
Margaret Aitken Carlyle, Mother of

Thomas Carlyle : 6j

IV
Susanna Annesley Wesley, Mother of John

and Charles Wesley 131

V
Monica, Mother of Saint Augustine 147

VI
Glimpses of the Mothers of Many Great

Men 165

I

FOREWORD

N THE Capitoline Museum, at Rome, there may be seen
the fragment of a statue, of which only the base
remains, and thereon the inscription,

"CORNELIA,
MOTHER OF THE GRACCHI."

In the dim but glorious past of Rome, this memorial of
stone was reared by an admiring people to the memory of
a Roman mother in whom were combined the noble virtues
and lofty traits of character which, in that age, best repre-
sented the ideal of heroic motherhood.

This is, however, but a single instance, where, to the
worth of motherhood, has been paid such signal honor.
History has accorded the mother scant recognition; her
biography has seldom been written; and the annals of
time record scarce more than a passing word to bear testi-
mony to that potent influence which, more than all else,
has shaped the destinies of the world's distinguished men.

But the highest and most lasting tribute to motherhood
is not to be found in memorials of stone and brass — rather
let it be sought in the lives of sons and daughters whose
true greatness and nobility of character is attributable to
that maternal influence which guided their infant steps
through the impressionable period of life, and prepared
them to meet with wisdom and with confidence the stern
duties of maturer years.

io MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Whether or not it be true that the gifts and character-
istics of a mother are most often inherited by her son,
while those of the father most frequently descend to the
daughter, it is, nevertheless, an established fact that behind
the life of many a great man — and the secret of his notable
career — has been the influence of a great mother, which
has molded his character and stimulated him to high
endeavor.

Difficult has been the task to find material for the making
of a book which records the lives of even a few of these
noble women. It is in the biography of the son, or in his
autobiographical writings, one may sometimes find the
incomplete story of her life ; and therefore, it is ofttimes
necessary to recount much concerning the family of which
she was the center, and of the son through whose fame
she lives.

Men are to be counted great, not alone by heritage of
rank or wealth, but when by innate worth and merit they
have risen to conspicuous places in the world's category
of immortals. In this volume, the mothers who are
accounted great are but types of women in every age, who,
in the lives of their sons, have unconsciously built the
foundation for that which is best and noblest in the life
of the nation.

Their influence is not to be estimated, but, like the ever-
widening stream, is far-reaching, sweeping onward into
the currents of Time.

MARY BALL WASHINGTON

MOTHER OF

GEORGE WASHINGTON

MARY BALL WASHINGTON, mother
of Gen. George Washington, was of
English ancestry, the direct line of
the Ball family (which may be traced back
to 1480) showing her to be seventh in descent from
"William Ball, Lord of the Manor of Barkham,
Com. Berks, died in the year, 1480." Barkham,
known in olden times as "Boercham," is noted as
the place at which William the Conqueror first
came to a halt on his march from the bloody field
of Hastings; and it is said that it was here he
"stayed his ruthless hand."

The Ball family belonged to the landed gentry
of England — to that great middle class which,
although not endowed with vast material riches,
has proven to be possessed in a large measure of
wealth of intellect; for from the landed, untitled
gentry has sprung England's great host of scholars,
poets, and philosophers.

12 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

William Ball was the first of his family to emi-
grate to America, and in the year 1650 settled in
Lancaster County, Virginia. At the time when he,
in company with other cavaliers, left England, the
royal house had been overthrown, and many of its
adherents met with severe persecution, which
forced them to seek the peace and freedom of
colonial life.

As to public services rendered by the Ball
family, no record has been given, but it boasted a
coat-of-arms showing a shield upon which is a
"lion rampant — the most honorable emblem of
heraldry; and the lion's paws bear aloft a ball!"
The motto of the family, "Coelum tueri," comes
from Ovid — "He gave to man a noble countenance,
and commanded him to gaze upon the heavens,
and to carry his looks upward to the stars."
Bishop Meade says of the Ball coat-of-arms:
"There is much that is bold about it; as a lion
rampant with a globe in his paw, with helmet,
shield, and visor, and other things betokening
strength and courage — but none of these suit my
work. There is, however, one thing that does.
On a scroll are these words, 'Coelum tueri !' May
it be a memento to all his posterity to look upward
and seek the things which are above."

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 13

Before the time that the Ball family had
emigrated to America, an Englishman by the name
of John Washington had settled in Westmoreland,
Virginia, and had risen to great influence, holding
various responsible positions in the county. It was
a descendant of this house — Augustine Wash-
ington— who, in the year 1730, became the husband
of Mary Ball.

Of Mary Ball's childhood little is known. Many
traditions relating to her girlhood are based on
letters found by a Union soldier, but which
undoubtedly refer to some other young woman
having the same name. Her mother's death occur-
ring when Mary Ball was only thirteen years of
age, she went to make her home with her sister
Elizabeth (the wife of Samuel Bonum), the only
other surviving member of the immediate family.
Of her personal appearance and attractiveness,
Washington Irving writes that she was "a beauty
and a belle. " His authority, however, was George
Washington Parke Custis, the only person of her
acquaintance who has left a written description of
Mary Ball; and he knew her only when she had
reached middle life.

That she was typically English in appearance is
to be granted; also, that she was "finely formed,
her features pleasing, yet strongly marked."

i4 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Her young womanhood was similar to that of
any other Virginia maiden of her social position,
during that period, in that she received a good edu-
cation, and was also taught dancing, horsemanship,
and kindred accomplishments, to fit her for the
round of social pleasures which constituted the gay
life of Westmoreland and the neighboring sec-
tions of country.

In the year 1730, at the age of twenty-two —
considered in that day by no means an early age
for marriage — she became the second wife of
Augustine Washington. Her new home was a
roomy, old-fashioned house on the banks of the
Potomac; the plantation, known as "Wakefield,"
comprising a thousand acres of fine farming land,
well wooded and well watered.

The bride has been described* as ' 'covertly
exploring her new home, and scanning the foot-
prints of her predecessor ; keeping her own counsel,
but instructing herself as to what manner of woman
had first enthroned herself in the bosom of her
lord. It appears she was arrested in this voyage
of discovery by a small but rare treasure of books.
Standing before the diamond-paned secretary, she
examined one volume after another. Finally, turn-

* "The Mother of Washington, and Her Times," by Mrs. Roger
A. Pryor.

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 15

ing over the leaves of one, she read, 'On Self-
Denial/ 'On Ye Vanity and Vexation which
Ariseth from Worldly Hope and Expectation.'
These seemed to be words of wisdom by which one
might be guided. The title page announced 'Sir
Matthew Hale's Contemplations'; the flyleaf
revealed the name of the owner, 'Jane Washington.'
Finding the inkhorn, she wrote firmly beneath, 'And
Mary Washington' — probably the first time she
had written the new name.

"We all know the rest: how this book of Eng-
land's learned Judge never left her side; how she
read it to her stepsons and her own sons, how it
was reverenced by George Washington, how it is
treasured today at our National mecca — Mount
Vernon."

At the Wakefield home was born, on February
22, 1732, a son, whom Mrs. Washington named for
her valued friend, George Eskridge.

It was not long after this that the old house was
destroyed by fire; the young wife, while diligently
engaged in burning leaves and debris in her garden,
found that the flames were beyond her control, and
it was not long until the family mansion was in
ashes. Her husband was away from home at the
time, but through the exertions of Mrs. Washing-
ton and her servants, some pieces of furniture and

16 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

a few treasured possessions were carried to a place
of safety, the beloved "Sir Matthew Hale" being
among the treasures rescued.

The family "dined that day in the kitchen, in
apparent content," and the burning of the home
was not permitted to disturb in great measure the
well-ordered routine of plantation life.

After the loss of the Wakefield house, the Wash-
ington moved to "Pine Grove," a farm on the
banks of the Rappahannock, opposite Fredericks-
burg. Here, in 1743, Augustine Washington died,
leaving seven children — two by his first wife, and
five by the second — to the care and guardianship
of his young widow.

George, the eldest of the five children of
Augustine and Mary Ball Washington, was at this
time only ten years of age; his brothers and sisters
were Elizabeth, Samuel, John, and Augustine;
Mildred, another child of this union, having died
in infancy.

The words of Goethe — "She is a most excellent
woman, who, when the husband dies, becomes a
father to the children" — are most applicable to Mrs.
Washington. At the age of thirty-five, she was left
alone with all the responsibilities of rearing a family,
and administering upon a large estate; and in each

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 17

capacity she proved herself most worthy and
capable of the trust.

Mr. Custis, who in childhood was often a visitor
at the Washington homes, writes as follows:

"Bred in those domestic and independent habits
which graced the Virginia matrons in the old days
of Virginia, this lady, by the death of her husband,
became involved in the cares of a young family at
a period when those cares seem more especially to
claim the aid and control of the stronger sex. It
was left for this eminent woman, by a method the
most rare, by an education and discipline the most
peculiar and imposing, to form in the youth-time
of her son those great and essential qualities which
gave luster to the glories of his after-life. If the
school savored the more of the Spartan than the
Persian character, it was a fitter school to form a
hero, destined to be the ornament of the age in
which he flourished, and a standard of excellence
for ages yet to come.

"The home of Mrs. Washington, of which she
was always mistress, was a pattern of order. There
the levity and indulgence common to youth were
tempered by a deference and well-regulated
restraint, which, while it neither suppressed nor
condemned rational enjoyment used in the spring-
time of life, prescribed those enjoyments within

18 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

the bounds of moderation and propriety. Thus the
chief was taught the duty of obedience, which pre-
pared him to command. His mother held in reserve
an authority which never departed from her, even
when her son had become the most illustrious of
men. It seemed to say, 'I am your mother, the
being who gave you life, the guide who directed
your steps when they needed a guardian: my
maternal affection drew forth your love; my
authority constrained your spirit; whatever may
be your success or your renown, next to your God,
your reverence is due to me.'

"Nor did the chief dissent from the truths; but
to the last moments of his venerable parent, yielded
to her will the most dutiful and implicit obedience,
and felt for her person and character the highest
respect, and the most enthusiastic attachment.

"Such were the domestic influences under which
the mind of Washington was formed, and that he
not only profited by, but fully appreciated, their
excellence and the character of his mother, his
behavior toward her at all times testified."

Mrs. Washington rose fully equal to the condi-
tion of affairs which confronted her. Strong self-
reliance, combined with unusual executive ability,
aided her in the performance of the multitudinous
duties which thronged her footsteps. The planta-

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 19

tion was to be superintended, her children edu-
cated, and various matters pertaining to the house-
hold given personal attention.

In the home circle, Mrs. Washington's rule was
none the less than that of a queen over her little
kingdom. From her children she exacted strictest
obedience, and received their deepest reverence and
love ; her friends were many, and were given warm
welcome beneath the hospitable roof; her servants
were loyal and devoted, and received in return
kindly consideration and watchful care. From the
windows of her home might be obtained a view of
Fredericksburg, and of the wharf where ships from
England came to unload their wares, receiving in
exchange great cargoes of tobacco, which was fast
becoming a popular luxury in the old world. That
Mrs. Washington did not engage in bartering with
the English traders is evident from a letter written
to her brother Joseph in England, excusing herself
for not sending letters, with the following explana-
tion: "As I don't ship tobacco, the Captains never
call on me, soe that I never know when tha come
and when tha goe." Says Mr. Custis : "Her great
industry, with the well regulated economy of all her
concerns, enabled her to dispense considerable
charities to the poor, although her own circum-
stances were always far from rich. All manner of

20 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

domestic economies met her zealous attentions;
while everything about her household bore marks
of her care and management, and very many things

the impress of her own hands The mother

of George Washington, the hero of the American
Revolutionary War, and the first President of the
United States, claimed the noblest distinction that a
woman should covet or gain, that of training a gifted
son in the way he should go, and inspiring him, by
her example, to make the way of goodness his path
to glory."

Life in the colonies was filled with many social
pleasures. Hospitality abounded everywhere, and
there was a constant round of house-parties and
other festivities, winter and summer. "Pine
Grove" was the mecca for relatives of the Wash-
ington family, and a large circle of friends, both
young and old. Always cordial and of cheerful
spirit, Mrs. Washington, however, possessed a
dignity of manner that at first rather repelled
strangers, and caused children to stand somewhat
in awe of her. Lawrence Washington, who was
cousin and playmate of her son, George, thus speaks
of her austerity of manner: "I was often there
with George, his playmate, schoolmate, and young
companion. Of the mother, I was ten times more
afraid than I ever was of my own parents; she

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 21

awed me in the midst of her kindness — for she was
indeed truly kind. And even now, when time has
whitened my locks, and I am the grandparent of
the second generation, I could not behold that
majestic woman without feelings it is impossible to
describe. Whoever has seen that awe-inspiring air
and manner so characteristic of the Father of His
Country, will remember the matron as she appeared
the presiding genius of her well-ordered household,
commanding and being obeyed."

To this description is no doubt due the universal
impression of the stern manner of Mrs. Wash-
ington.

With high sense of honor and sincerity of mind,
she is accredited with the twofold virtue of never
gossiping, nor allowing those about her to in-
dulge in this habit. Sincerity was with her a pro-
nounced characteristic, and she always expected to
a like degree the same virtue in others. It has been
said that visitors never failed to receive from Mrs.
Washington a gracious, cordial welcome, but when
they once had stated that they could no longer re-
main, she took them at their word, and afforded
every facility to aid in their departure.

Always prompt in meeting appointments, she
brought up her children to observe the same habit.
Especially did her son George thus learn the value

22 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

of time, which served him well in the high offices
to which he was called later on. The chaplain of
Congress has recorded the fact that when the hour
of noon had been fixed for the hearing of the Presi-
dent's message, he usually "crossed the threshold as
the clock struck the hour." When guests did not
arrive at the appointed time for dinner, it is said
that Washington allowed five minutes for variation
of timepieces; and in reply to profuse apologies
would calmly state, "I have a cook who never asks
whether the company has come, but whether the
hour has come."

Among the duties of Mrs. Washington, it was of
supreme importance that the inheritance of her
children should be carefully guarded until each child
on reaching majority should receive his portion.
An adage in Virginia was, "Keep your land, and
your land will keep you"; but Mrs. Washington
realized that, though the maintenance of the family
would be well assured from the income derived
from their land, there would not be a large surplus,
and accordingly with wisdom prepared her sons to
earn their own living. George was sent first to an
"old-field" school, taught by Master Hobly, the
sexton of the parish church. Later, under the
direction of his half-brother Lawrence, he attended
the school of Master Williams. One winter he

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 23

rode horseback ten miles to school each day. When
fourteen years of age, he became exceedingly
anxious to go to sea, and his brother Lawrence
obtained for him a midshipman's warrant. So
bitterly did his mother oppose such a venture that
to please her he relinquished the idea, saying, "I
am not going to make my mother suffer so by leav-
ing her!" This decision was the turning-point in
George Washington's life, for, by deciding to re-
main at home, he soon afterwards was offered and
accepted the position of surveyor to Lord Fairfax;
and later became a soldier. When nineteen years
of age, he was appointed one of the adjutant-
generals of Virginia. The stern frontier life had
been fitting him unconsciously for his future career,
and he was becoming more and more imbued with
the love of a soldier's life. It was the wish of Mrs.
Washington that her eldest son follow the footsteps
of his father, and reside on his own estate at
Mount Vernon, "as became a country gentleman."
She opposed equally as much his fighting for the
English crown in the French and Indian Wars, as
she did later his fighting against the crown. When
he first set forth for the frontier beyond the Blue
Ridge, she entreated him not to go, exclaiming "Oh,
this fighting and killing!" But when he convinced
her that it was a duty which he owed his country,

24 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

she became calm, and placing her hand on his
shoulder said, "God. is our sure trust. To Him I
commend you." When offered by General Brad-
dock a place on his staff, George was urged by his
mother to decline, but he replied, "The God to
whom you commended me, Madam, when I set out
on a more perilous errand, defended me from all
harm ; and I trust He will do so now." When news
of Braddock's defeat, and the terrible slaughter of
his soldiers, reached the little town of Fredericks-
burg, and was conveyed to the anxious mother, she
was forced for twelve days to be in ignorance of
her son's safety. In a letter which portrayed char-
acteristic calmness, he told of how for more than
ten days he had been confined to a wagon by ill-
ness, from which he had not half-recovered when
the battle came on; how, physically unfitted, he had
entered the fight, making marvelous escape with
four bullets through his coat, and having had two
horses shot under him. The letter concluded with
saying that it would probably be September before
he could hope to leave for Mount Vernon ; and that
he was, "Honored Madam," her most dutiful son.

In 1759, Washington married the beautiful and
wealthy Mrs. Custis; but the hope that the mother
entertained of his relinquishing the soldier's life
upon marriage was not to be attained, for he soon

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 25

entered again into the fortunes of war with keenest
enthusiasm. When Washington returned home
after the narrow escape from death, his mother
drove to Mount Vernon to meet him, and insisted
that he leave the service, as health and fortune were
both endangered. He gave no answer at the time,
but wrote her shortly afterward as follows :

"Honored Madam : — If it is in my power to avoid
going to Ohio again, I shall ; but if the command is
pressed upon me by the general voice of the
country, and offered upon such terms as can not be
objected against, it would reflect dishonor upon me
to refuse it, and that, I am sure, must or ought to
give you greater uneasiness than my going in an
honorable command. Upon no other terms will I
accept it."

With this high sense of honor and devotion to
duty which had been instilled in him by his mother,
Washington knew well that any reflection of this
kind upon his name would meet with her stern dis-
approval; and, great as was her dislike for war,
she would make no further resistance.

Betty, the only daughter of Mrs. Washington, at
the age of seventeen married her uncle-in-law,
Fielding Lewis (a widower of two months), and
lived at "Kenmore," not far from "Pine Grove,"
the home of the Washingtons. The sons also

26 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

having scattered to their own homes, the mother
was left entirely alone, refusing to make her home
elsewhere; and, busied with her simple household
duties, she lived in quiet content.

At length the storm of the American Revolution
broke over the country, and Mrs. Washington was
greatly perturbed, not only for the reason that "the
righting and the killing" would again begin, but
that she was closely bound to the mother country
by ties of kinship, and was also a loyal member of
the Church of England. And when news came that
her son was to lead the rebellious army, she found
it, indeed, difficult to be resigned. So bitter was
her feeling that Washington, riding over to Freder-
icksburg to see her, stopped first at the little inn,
"The Indian Queen/' before going to his mother's
home, deeming it best "to pause and reconnoiter."
That a member of the family should put up at a
tavern was an unheard-of occurrence, and Mrs.
Washington, learning of his action, said, "Tell
George to come home instantly — instantly." After a
long and affectionate conversation, she pressed him
to her bosom, and commending him to God, again
gave him, with her blessing, into his country's
service.

During the trying times that followed, although
often filled with alarm and anxiety, Mrs. Washing-

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 27

ton never tolerated expressions of discouragement
and complaint. "The mothers and wives of brave
men," said she, "must be brave women." She fol-
lowed with keenest interest every detail of the war,
at the same time continuing her usual quiet mode
of living. At the urgent request of her children, she
had, however, given up the country home, and
moved to Fredericksburg, to an unpretentious
dwelling, with grounds adjoining "Kenmore," the
estate of her son-in-law, Col. Fielding Lewis. A
favorite resort of Mrs. Washington was a secluded
spot, shaded with vines and trees, on the land of
Colonel Lewis, near-by her home. To this quiet
spot, called Oratory Rock, she retired daily that she
might spend some time in prayer, apart from the
noise and distractions of the world. Every day, in
an open chaise, she drove to her farm, and there
gave personal supervision to the work; returning
to town with a jug of water from the spring out of
which her husband and children had drank, and
bringing seeds and cuttings for her garden in town.
On one occasion her overseer was called to account
for having departed from her instructions.
"Madam," said he, "in my judgment the work has
been done to better advantage than if I had followed
your instructions." "And pray, sir," was the swift
reply, "who gave you the right to exercise any

28 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

judgment in the matter? I command you, sir!
There is nothing for you to do but obey." Every
Sabbath found her in her accustomed place at
church; and by the example of a devout and con-
sistent life she exerted unconsciously a strong
influence for good.

When news came of the victories of Trenton and
Princeton, in the ten-days' campaign which Fred-
erick the Great referred to as the most brilliant in
the annals of war, congratulations poured in for the
mother from every quarter. With calmness and
utter freedom from undue pride, she gave reply,
"But, my good sirs, here is too much flattery — still
George will not forget the lessons I early taught
him; he will not forget himself though he is the
subject of so much praise/' And again she
responded quietly, "George seems to have deserved
well of his country, but we must not praise -him
too much. George has not forgotten his duty."

Once, so the story goes, a courier, followed by a
great throng of people eager for news from the
battlefield, brought to Mrs. Washington a packet
from headquarters. To the dismay of all, she
calmly dropped it, unread, into her pocket, remark-
ing, "It is all right — I am well assured of that."
The courier gently suggested, "There may have
been a battle — the neighbors would like to know."

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 29

Accordingly, she glanced over the contents of the
packet, and remarked "There has been a victory" ;
adding, "George generally carries through what-
ever he undertakes."

The Revolutionary War reached its crisis, and
when the end had actually come, Washington sent
to his mother a courier bearing news of the sur-
render. Raising her hands toward heaven, she
gave fervent thanks to God "that the fighting and
killing" were now over, and that peace would again
reign. Of the meeting between Mrs. Washington
and her now world-famed son, Mr. Custis writes :

"After an absence of nearly seven years, it was
at length, on the return of the combined armies
from Yorktown, permitted to the mother again
to see and embrace her illustrious son. So soon as
he had dismounted, in the midst of a numerous
and brilliant suite, he sent to apprise her of his
arrival, and to know when it would be her pleasure
to receive him. No pageantry of war proclaimed
his coming, no trumpets sounded, no banners

waved The lady was alone, her aged hands

employed in the works of domestic industry, when
the good news was announced She wel-
comed him with warm embrace, and by well-
remembered and endearing names of his childhood ;
enquiring as to his health, she remarked the lines

3o MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

which mighty cares had made on his manly coun-
tenance, spoke much of old times and old friends —
but of his glory, not one word."

When Lafayette visited America, he went to
Fredericksburg to call on the mother of the nation's
hero. He found her working among her flowers
— clad in a simple home-made garb, a plain
straw hat upon her head. She bade him a cordial
welcome, saying, "Ah, Marquis, you see an old
woman, but come, I can make you welcome to my
poor dwelling without the parade of changing my
dress/' To the high praise which Lafayette
bestowed upon her son, the characteristic reply was
given: "I am not surprised at what George has
done, for he was always a very good boy."

As we read of this meeting between the great
French commander and the mother of the American
hero, one can but contrast the two great generals
of France and America — Napoleon Bonaparte and
George Washington — the one, whose brilliant career
was cut off so suddenly, and who sank into death
on St. Helena; the other, crowned with the laurels
bestowed by a loyal people, living to receive the
highest honor his nation could bestow.

It is of interest to note that, through the Willis
family, Mrs. Washington's descendants became
allied to the Bonapartes. She was an ancestress of

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 31

Catherine Willis, who at the age of thirteen mar-
ried, and was left a widow at fourteen. Accom-
panying her parents to Pensacola, Ela., the youth-
ful widow met and married Achille Murat, ex-
prince of Naples, and nephew of Napoleon Bona-
parte. John Randolph and other friends once
accompanied her on a trip to England, and while
visiting one of the London art galleries, Randolph
called attention to the portraits of Washington and
Napoleon, hanging side by side. "Before us/' said
he, with dramatic manner, "we have Napoleon and
Washington — one the founder of a mighty empire,
the other of a great Republic. " Turning to Cath-
erine, he continued, "Behold in the Princess Murat
the niece of both — a distinction she alone can
claim !"*

On the fourteenth of April, 1789, Washington
was officially notified that he had been chosen Presi-
dent of the United States. Before leaving for New
York, he went to bid his mother farewell. She
was cheerful, though failing health was evident, and
remarked to him : "You will see me no more. Age
and disease warn me that I shall not be long in this
world. I trust in God I am somewhat prepared for
a better. But go; fulfill the high destinies which

* In the cemetery at Tallahassee, Fla., are buried the Prince
and Princess Murat (who represent the families of Bonaparte and
Washington).

32 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Heaven appears to assign you; go, and may
Heaven's and your mother's blessing be with you
always." This was their last meeting, for she
passed away August 25 of the same year, at the age
of eighty-five, of cancer of the breast. On the
twenty-seventh of August, Mrs. Washington was
buried in the spot selected by herself, and over
which there stands a monument erected by the
women of America, in memory of her whose name
stands as a type of the best and noblest in American
motherhood. The modest dwelling which was her
last residence in Fredericksburg is cared for by a
society of Virginia women; and the garden, which
was her pride and delight, is likewise lovingly
preserved. Said Senator Daniels, at the unveiling
of the monument to Mary Washington, at Freder-
icksburg :

"Fortunate is the woman, said the Greek of old,
of whom neither good nor ill is spoken. And, cur-
tained away from the world, the matron lived under
the great Taskmaster's eye, in the bosom of that

home, by whose fruit ye shall know her She

nursed a hero at her breast. At her knee she trained
to the love and fear of God, and to the kingly
virtues — honor, truth, and valor, the lion of the
tribe that gave to America liberty and independence.
This is her title to renown. It is enough. Eternal

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 33

dignity and heavenly grace dwell upon the brow of
this blessed mother; nor burnished gold, nor
sculptured stone, nor rhythmic praise could add one

jot or one tittle to her chaste glory She was

the unassuming wife and mother whose kingdom
was her family, whose world was her home. In
the shadow and in the silence, from day to day and
year to year, she followed the guiding star of that
truth which tells us that 'to do that which before
us lies in daily life is the prime wisdom/ She was
the good angel of the hearthstone — the special
providence of tender hearts and helpless hands,
content to bear her burden in the sequestered vale
of life, her thoughts unperverted by false ambitions,
and all unlooking for the great reward that crowned
her love and toil."

It is well that the women of her country have
erected fitting memorials to her name, that men of
eloquence have spoken of her virtues ; but the most
worthy tribute to the memory of Mary Washington
is found in the words of her illustrious son, who
spoke this mighty sentence : "All that I am I owe
to my mother."

»

34 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

The Will of Mary Washington, as recorded in
the Clerk's office at Fredericksburg, reads as
follows :

"In the name of God! Amen!

"I, Mary Washington, of Fredericksburg, in the County
of Spotsylvania, being in good health, but calling to mind
the uncertainty of this life, and willing to dispose of what
remains of my worldly estate, do make and publish this
my last Will, recommending my soul into the hands of my
Creator, hoping for a remission of all my sins, through
the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ, the Saviour of
mankind ; I dispose of my worldly estate as follows :

"Imprimis : I give to my son General George Washing-
ton, all my land in Acokeek Run, in the County of Stafford,
and also my negro Ivy George to him and his heirs for-
ever. Also my best bed, bedstead, and Virginia cloth cur-
tains (the same that stands in my best bedroom), my
quilted blue and white quilt, and my best dressing-glass.

"Item. I give and devise to my son Charles Washington,
my negro man Tom, to him and his assigns forever.

"Item. I give and devise to my daughter Bettie Lewis,
my phaeton and my bay horse.

"Item. I give and devise to my daughter-in-law Hannah
Washington, my purple cloth cloak lined with shag.

"Item. I give and devise to my grandson, Corbin Wash-
ington, my negro wench, old Bet, my riding-chair, and two
black horses, to him and his assigns forever.

"Item. I give and devise to my grandson Fielding Lewis,
my negro man Frederick, to him and his assigns forever,
also eight silver table spoons, half of my crockery-ware,
and the blue and white tea china, with book-case, oval

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 35

table, one bedstead, one pair sheets, one pair blankets and
white cotton counterpane, two table cloths, six red leather
chairs, half my pewter and one-half my kitchen furniture.

"Item. I give and devise to my grandson Lawrence
Lewis, my negro wench Lydia, to him and his assigns for-
ever.

"Item. I give and devise to my grand daughter, Bettie
Curtis, my negro woman, little Bet, and her future increase,
to her and her assigns forever. Also my largest looking-
glass, my walnut writing desk and drawers, a square dining
table, one bed, bedstead, bolster, one pillow, one blanket
and pair sheets, white Virginia cloth counterpains and
purple curtains, my red and white tea china, teaspoons, and
the other half of my pewter and crockery ware, and the
remainder of my iron kitchen furniture.

"Item. I give and devise to my grandson, George Wash-
ington, my next best glass, one bed, bedstead, bolster, one
pillow, one pair sheets, one blanket and counterpain.

"Item. I devise all my wearing apparel to be equally
divided between my grand daughters, Bettie Curtis, Fannie
Ball, and Milly Washington — but should my daughter,
Bettie Lewis, fancy any one, two or three articles, she is
to have them before a division thereof.

"Lastly, I nominate and appoint my said son, General
George Washington, executor of this, my Will, and as I
owe few or no debts, I direct my executor to give no
security or appraise my estate, but desire the same may be
allotted to my devisees, with as little trouble and delay as
may be, desiring their acceptance thereof as all the token
I now have to give them of my love for them.

36 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

"In witness thereof, I have hereunto set my hand and
seal the 20th day of May, 1788.

"Mary Washington
"Witness, John Ferneyhough

"Signed, sealed and published in the presence of the said
Mary Washington and at her desire.

"J no. Mercer.

"Joseph Walker."

II

MARGARET COX RUSKIN

MOTHER OF
JOHN RUSKIN

"I never disobeyed my mother; I have honored
all women with solemn worship. — John Ruskin.

THE words of John Ruskin ring true and
deep in loyal affection for the mother to
whose influence he ascribes all that is good
in his life; and it is to his fascinating but incom-
plete autobiography, "Praeterita," that one must
turn to find the record of her life.

Brief though these glimpses be of Mrs. Ruskin,
they present, in a most interesting manner, her un-
usual personality, firmness of character, and austere
rules of living, which made strong impress upon her
son.

Margaret Cox was the daughter of Captain and
Mrs. Cox, of Yarmouth. Her mother, who was
early left a widow, was the capable manager of the
Old King's Head, in Market Street, Croydon. Of
his maternal ancestors, Ruskin states that he knew

38 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

little; adding, in a rather jocular vein, that he
wished his grandmother "were alive again, and I
could paint her Simone Memmi's King's Head for
a sign." Of his grandfather, his knowledge is
summed up as follows : "My maternal grandfather
was, as I have said, a sailor, who used to embark,
like Robinson Crusoe, at Yarmouth, and come back
at rare intervals, making himself very delightful at
home. I have an idea he had something to do with
the herring business, but am not clear on that point ;
my mother never being much communicative con-
cerning it. He spoiled her and her (younger)
sister, with all his heart, when he was at home;
unless there appeared any tendency to equivocation
or imaginative statements on the part of the chil-
dren, which were always unforgivable. My mother,
being once perceived by him to have distinctly told
him a lie, he sent the servant out forthwith to buy
an entire bundle of new broom twigs to whip her
with. 'They did not hurt me so much as one (twig)
would have done/ said my mother, 'but I thought
a good deal of it/

"My grandfather was killed at two-and-thirty, by
trying to ride, instead of walk, into Croydon; he
got his leg crushed by his horse against a wall ; and
died of the hurt's mortifying. My mother was then
seven or eight years old, and with her sister, was

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 39

sent to quite a fashionable (for Croydon) day-
school, Mrs. Rice's, where my mother was taught
evangelical principles, and became the pattern girl
and best needlewoman in the school ; and where my
aunt absolutely refused evangelical principles, and
became the plague and pet of it. My mother, be-
ing a girl of great power, with not a little pride,
grew more and more exemplary in her entirely con-
scientious career, much laughed at, though much
beloved by her sister; who had more wit, less pride,
and no conscience."

Except for this limited account of Margaret
Cox's school days, little is known of her life prior
to marriage.

Of his father, John James Ruskin, who was the
son of John Ruskin and Catherine Tweddale,
Ruskin has little to say further than that "he began
business as a wine-merchant, with no capital, and a
considerable amount of debt bequeathed to him by
my grandfather. He accepted the bequest, and paid
them all before he began to lay by anything for
himself — for which his best friends called him a
fool, and I, without expressing any opinion as to
his wisdom, which I knew in such matters to be at
least equal to mine, have written on the granite slab
over his grave that he was 'an entirely honest mer-
chant'." That his Scotch shrewdness, industry, and

40 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

capability for saving, served him in good stead as
a business man is very evident from the fact that
John James Ruskin amassed a fortune of two hun-
dred thousand pounds.

Of the acquaintanceship of Margaret Cox and
John James Ruskin, which finally ripened into love
and marriage, the following account is given in their
son's autobiography: "At last my mother, formed
into a consummate housewife, was sent for to Scot-
land to take care of my paternal grandfather's
home ; who was gradually ruining himself ; and who
at last effectually ruined, and killed, himself. My
father came up to London; was a clerk in a mer-
chant's house for nine years, without a holiday;
then began business on his own account; paid his
father's debts ; and married his exemplary Croydon
cousin."

Their engagement had continued through a period
of nine years, during which time the younger
Ruskin had become established in business. In
the meantime, Margaret Cox steadily endeavored
to cultivate her powers of mind, in order to become
the worthy companion of a man whom she con-
sidered to be greatly her superior. Finally, one
evening, after supper was over, the marriage took
place, not even the servants having a suspicion of

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 41

the event "until John and Margaret drove away
together next morning to Edinburgh."

In Hunter Street, Brunswick Square, London,
the Ruskins resided, and here, on February 8, 18 19,
John Ruskin was born, spending the first four years
of his life amid the dull and monotonous surround-
ings of this cheerless part of the city. Only in
the summer, when the family went away for a few
weeks' travel, did the world disclose to him its
marvelous beauty and interest.

During these early years in London, he "was
accustomed to no other prospect than that of the
brick walls over the way; had no brothers nor
sisters nor companions, and though I could always
make myself happy in a quiet way, the beauty of
the mountains had an additional charm of change
and adventure for me, which a country-bred child
could not have felt."

The younger sister of Margaret Cox had
remained in Croydon, and married a baker. She
was always the staunch ally of her little nephew,
whose lonely existence appealed to her sympathetic
heart; and tried by many little acts of kindness to
brighten the dreary situation.

"My mother's general principles of first treat-
ment," says Ruskin, "were to guard me with steady

42 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

watchfulness from all avoidable pain or danger;
and for the rest, to let me amuse myself as I liked,
provided I was neither fretful nor troublesome.
But the law was, that I should find my own amuse-
ment. No toys of any kind were at first allowed;
and the pity of my Croydon aunt for my poverty
in this respect was boundless. On one of my birth-
days, thinking to overcome my mother's resolution
by splendor of temptation, she bought the most
radiant Punch and Judy she could find in all the
Soho Bazaar — as big as a real Punch and Judy, all
dressed in scarlet and gold, and that would dance,
tied to the leg of a chair. I must have been greatly
impressed, for I remember well the look of the two
figures, as my aunt herself exhibited their virtues.
My mother was obliged to accept them; but after-
wards quietly told me it was not right that I should
have them ; and I never saw them again.

Nor did I painfully wish, what I was never per-
mitted for an instant to hope or even imagine, the
possession of such things as one saw in toyshops.
I had a bunch of keys to play with, as long as I
was capable of pleasure in what glittered and
jingled; as I grew older, I had a cart, and a ball;
and when I was five or six years old, two boxes of
well-cut wooden bricks."

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 43

It was in playing with wooden bricks that his
love for architecture, even thus early in childhood,
was aroused.

"With these modest, but, I still think, entirely
sufficient possessions, and being always summarily
whipped if I cried, did not do as I was bid, or
tumbled on the stairs, I soon attained serene and
secure methods of life and motion ; and could pass
my days contentedly in tracing the squares and
comparing the colors of my carpet; examining the
knots in the wood of the floor, or counting the
bricks in the opposite house; the rapturous inter-
vals of excitement during the filling of the water-
cart, through its leathern pipe, from the dripping
iron post at the pavement edge; or the still more
admirable proceedings of the turncock, when he
turned and turned till a fountain sprang up in the
middle of the street. But the carpet, and what pat-
terns I could find in bed-covers, dresses, or wall-
papers to be examined, were my chief resources,
and my attention to the particulars in these was
soon so accurate, that when at three and a half I
was taken to have my portrait painted by Mr.
Northcote, I had not been ten minutes alone with
him before I asked him why there were holes in his
carpet. The portrait in question represents a very
pretty child with yellow hair, dressed in a white

44 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

frock like a girl, with a broad light-blue sash and
blue shoes to match; the feet of the child whole-
somely large in proportion to its body; and the
shoes still more wholesomely large in proportion to
the feet."

Carefully and thoroughly trained herself, and
desiring for her son all the advantages which would
develop in him the noblest and highest principles,
Mrs. Ruskin did not fail to impress upon him, from
early infancy, the worth of education, and of a
life devoted to the best and holiest things.

"My mother had, as she afterwards told me,"
says Ruskin, "solemnly 'devoted me to God' before
I was born, in imitation of Hannah. Very good
women are remarkably apt to make away with their
children prematurely, in this manner: the real
meaning of the pious act being that, as the sons of
Zebedee are not (or at least they hope not) to sit
on the right and left of Christ, in His kingdom, their
sons may perhaps, they think, in time be advanced
to that respectable position in eternal life ; especially
if they ask Christ very humbly for it every day;
and they always forget in the most naive way that
the position is not His to give! 'Devoting me to
God/ meant, as far as my mother knew herself
what she meant, that she would try to send me to
college, and make a clergyman of me: and I was

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 45

accordingly bred for 'the church.' My father, who
— rest be to his soul — had the exceedingly bad habit
of yielding to my mother in large things and taking
his own way in little ones, allowed me, without say-
ing a word, to be thus withdrawn from the sherry
trade as an unclean thing; not without some
pardonable participation in my mother's ultimate
views for me. For many and many a year after-
wards, I remember, while he was speaking to one
of our artist friends, who admired Raphael, and
greatly regretted my endeavors to interfere with
that popular taste — while my father and he were
condoling with each other on my having been
impudent enough to think I could tell the public
about Turner and Raphael — instead of contenting
myself, as I ought, with explaining the way of their
souls' salvation to them — and what an amiable
clergyman was lost in me — 'Yes,' said my father,
with tears in his eyes (true and tender tears as
father ever shed) ; 'he would have been a Bishop.'
"Luckily for me, my mother, under these distinct
impressions of her own duty, and with such latent
hopes of my future eminence, took me very early to
church, where, in spite of my quiet habits, and my
mother's golden vinaigrette, always indulged to me
there, and there only, with its lid unclasped that I
might see the wreathed open pattern above the

46 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

sponge, I found the bottom of the pew so extremely
dull a place to keep quiet in (my best story-books
being also taken away from me in the morning)
that, as I have somewhere said before, the horror
of Sunday used even to cast its prescient gloom as
far back in the week as Friday — and all the glory
of Monday, with church seven days removed again,
was no equivalent for it."

However distasteful the strict observance of the
Sabbath, and attendance upon church services,
might have been to the youthful Ruskin, there was
nevertheless a lasting impression made upon his
infant mind, for, says he, ''Notwithstanding, I
arrived at some abstract in my own mind of the
Rev. Howell's sermons; and occasionally, in imita-
tion of him, preached a sermon at home over the red
sofa cushions — this performance being always
called for by my mother's dearest friends, as the
greatest accomplishment of my childhood. The
sermon was, I believe, some eleven words long;
very exemplary, it seems to me, in that respect —
and I still think must have been the purest gospel,
for I know it began, 'People, be good'."

Although the desire of his parents that he should
enter the ministry was not attained, yet, through
the pure, uplifting thoughts which have come from

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 47

his pen, Ruskin still speaks from a world-wide pul-
pit, "People, be good/'

When about the age of four years, Ruskin's city
home was changed for more congenial surroundings
at Heme Hill, where the attractive rural locality
was most welcome to the child, who longed for
wider acquaintance with the world. Each summer,
as was their custom, the family made a tour
through England, Wales, and the lowlands of Scot-
land, soliciting orders for Mr. Ruskin's establish-
ment. In this way they gained familiarity with "all
the high-roads, and most of the cross ones," as far
north as Perth, where every other year they
remained for the entire summer. Mrs. Ruskin, as
her son grew older, directed his reading of the his-
tory and literature of those sections of country
which they traversed; and as opportunity pre-
sented, together they visited many of the splendid
castles, magnificent art galleries, and lovely gardens.
Thus was Ruskin's love for the artistic and beauti-
ful developed and increased.

Of the castles of England he writes : "To my
farther great benefit, as I grew older, I thus saw
nearly all the noblemen's houses in England, in
reverent and healthy delight of uncovetous admira-
tion— perceiving, as soon as I could perceive any
political truth at all, that it was probably much

48 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

happier to live in a small house, and leave Warwick
Castle to be astonished at ; but that, at all events, it
would not make Brunswick Square in the least
more pleasantly habitable, to pull Warwick Castle
down. And at this day, though I have kind invita-
tions enough to visit America, I could not, even for
a couple of months, live in a country so miserable
as to possess no castles."

This midsummer holiday was, for young Ruskin,
the means of acquiring extensive knowledge by
close observation, and also of developing his appre-
ciation of the beautiful in art and nature; but the
simple mode of life and strict discipline of his
mother had instilled a preference for "things
modest, humble, and pure in peace" ; and so he
says, "while I never to this day pass a lattice-
windowed cottage without wishing to be its cottager,
I never yet saw the castle which I envied to be its
lord."

As to the methods of instruction employed by his
mother, Ruskin says: "I think the treatment, or
accidental conditions, of my childhood entirely
right, for a child of my temperament : but the mode
of my introduction to literature appears to me
questionable, and I am not prepared to carry it out
in St. George's schools without much modification.
I absolutely declined to read by syllable ; but would

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 49

get an entire sentence by heart with great facility,
and point with accuracy to every word in the page
as I repeated it. As, however, the words were once
displaced, I had no more to say; my mother gave
up, for the time, the endeavor to teach me to read,
hoping only that I might consent, in process of
years, to adopt the popular system of syllabic
study. But I went on to amuse myself in my own
way; learnt whole words at a time, as I did pat-
terns; and at five years old was sending for my
'second volumes' to the circulating library." His
education progressed with a rapidity unusual for
one of his years ; and at extremely early age he had
developed a great liking for the writings of Homer
and of Sir Walter Scott. In his own interesting
way, he refers to these writers of widely differing
times. "I am, and my father was before me, a
violent Tory of the old school — Walter Scott's
school, that is to say, and Homer's. I name these
two out of the numberless great Tory writers,
because they were my own two masters. I had
Walter Scott's novels and the Iliad (Pope's trans-
lation) for constant reading when I was a child, on
week-days : on Sunday, their effect was tempered
by Robinson Crusoe and the Pilgrim's Progress;
my mother having it deep in her heart to make an
evangelical clergyman of me. Fortunately, I had

5o MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

an aunt more evangelical than my mother; and my
aunt gave me cold mutton for Sunday's dinner,
which — as I much preferred it hot — greatly dimin-
ished the influence of Pilgrim's Progress; and the
end of the matter was that I got all the noble,
imaginative teaching of Defoe and Bunyan, and yet
— am not an evangelical clergyman. I had, how-
ever, still better teaching than theirs, and that com-
pulsorily, and every day in the week.

"Walter Scott and Pope's Homer were reading of
my own election, and my mother forced me, by
steady daily toil, to learn long chapters of the Bible
by heart ; as well as to read it every syllable through,
aloud, hard names and all, from Genesis to the
Apocalypse, about once a year: and to that dis-
cipline— patient, accurate, and resolute — I owe, not
only the knowledge of the book, which I find occa-
sionally serviceable, but much of my general power
of taking pains, and the best part of my taste in
literature. From Walter Scott's novels I might
easily, as I grew older, have fallen to other people's
novels; and Pope might, perhaps, have led me to
take Johnson's English or Gibbon's, as types of
language; but once knowing the 32nd of Deuter-
onomy, the 119th Psalm, the 15th of 1st Corinthians,
the sermon on the Mount, and most of the
Apocalypse, every syllable by heart, and having

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 51

always a way of thinking with myself what wrords
meant, it was not possible for me, even in the fool-
ishest times of youth, to write entirely superficial
or formal English; and the affectation of trying to
write like Hooker and George Herbert was the most
innocent I could have fallen into."

The home-life of the Ruskin family was simple
and unpretending. They lived much to themselves,
and Ruskin recalls that, during his childhood years,
his diet was exceedingly limited. In regard to this
he says : "We seldom had company, even on week-
days; and I was never allowed to come down to
dessert, until much later in life — when I was able
to crack other people's nuts for them (I hope they
liked the ministration), but never to have any my-
self ; nor anything else of dainty kind, either then or
at other times. Once, in Hunter Street, I recollect
my mother giving me three raisins, in the forenoon,
out of the store cabinet; and I remember perfectly
the first time I tasted custard, in our lodgings in
Norfolk Street — where we had gone while the
house was being painted, or cleaned, or something.
My father was dining in the front room, and did
not finish his custard; and my mother brought me
the bottom of it into the back room."

Associated with the elder Ruskin in business
were two partners, making the firm of Ruskin,

52 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Telford, and Domecq — the last-named being in
reality the head of the establishment, and the other
two his agents. It was to Mr. Telford's influence
that John Ruskin attributes his attention being
drawn to the work of Turner. An illustrated edi-
tion of Italy was given by Mr. Telford (at the sug-
gestion of his sisters) to Ruskin, and from that time
on he was Turner's ardent champion, and the tenor
of his life determined. "Poor Mr. Telford," says
Ruskin, "was always held by papa and mamma
primarily responsible for my Turner insanities."

It was ever a source of regret to Ruskin that in
his early years he seldom had companions with
whom to play. His mother's chief personal
pleasure was in caring for her flowers, and
Ruskin says "was often planting or pruning
beside me, at least if I chose to stay beside her.
I never thought of doing anything behind her
back which I would not have done before
her face; and her presence was therefore no
restraint to me." He adds, however, that being left
alone so much in childhood caused him, by the time
he was seven years old, to be getting independent,
mentally, even of his father and mother; and
having no one else to depend upon, "began to lead
a very small, perky, contented, conceited, Cock-
Robinson-Crusoe sort of life." Although he always

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 53

paid high tribute to his mother in regard to the
training which fitted him for his future notable
career, still he felt that nothing could ever quite
atone for the lack of young companions, and the
extreme loneliness which marked his early years.
He attached the blame in a measure to his father,
who had so much confidence in his mother's judg-
ment that he "never ventured even to help, much
less to cross her," in the management and education
of their son. Mrs. Ruskin, having determined that
her son should be "an ecclesiastical gentleman,"
endeavored to keep him securely guarded from all
worldly affairs and frivolity.

Ruskin's education, under his mother's direction,
progressed rapidly and with systematic preciseness.
Referring to his studies, he says : "My mother
never gave me more to learn than I could easily
get learnt, if I set myself honestly to work, by
twelve o'clock. She never allowed anything to dis-
turb me when my task was set; if it was not said
rightly by twelve o'clock, I was kept in till I knew
it, and in general, even when Latin grammar came
to supplement the Psalms, I was my own master
for at least an hour before half-past one dinner,
and for the rest of the afternoon." The afternoons
were entirely his own for recreation such as he
might choose. Having no pets to care for, or to

54 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

make less lonely his hours for play, he says, "On
the whole, I had nothing animate to care for, in a
childish way, but myself, some nests of ants, which
the gardener would never leave undisturbed for me,
and a sociable bird or two ; though I never had the
sense or perseverance to make one really tame. But
that was partly because, if I ever managed to bring
one to be the least trustful of me, the cats got it"
On one occasion Mrs. Ruskin gave permission for
her little son to accompany Thomas, the serving-
man, to the stable, but expressly forbade that he go
within reach of the dog's chain. "Lion" was at his
dinner, and Ruskin says that, unmindful of his
mother's parting injunction, he leaned from the
servant's arms and attempted to pat the dog. Sud-
denly "Lion" flew at him and bit a piece out of the
corner of his lip. With the blood flowing profusely,
he was borne to' his distressed mother, but still "not
a whit frightened, except lest 'Lion' should be sent
away." "Lion," indeed, was sent away speedily,
and for a time the lad was ordered by his physician
to keep perfect silence until the wound healed. Be-
fore relapsing into a state of silence, however, he
took opportunity to observe most soberly, "Mamma,
though I can't speak, I can play upon the fiddle."
This suggestion did not seem to meet with approval,
for he adds: "But the house was of another

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 55

opinion, and I never attained any proficiency upon
that instrument worthy of my genius/'

With neither companions nor pets to divert him,
Ruskin's powers of imagination developed marvel-
ously, and, as he says, "either fastened themselves
on inanimate things — the sky, the leaves, and
pebbles, observable within the walls of Eden — or
caught at any opportunity of flight into regions of
romance, compatible with the objective realities of
existence in the nineteenth century, within a mile
and a quarter of Camberwell Green." His father,
unconsciously, aided in stimulating these imagina-
tive powers, by entertaining him at times when his
mother's rules permitted. It was the child's delight
to be permitted to watch his father shave, and that
operation concluded, to listen to a story which
described a certain picture hanging over the dress-
ing-table. This picture, a little watercolor, the work
of Mr. Ruskin, Sr., had a great charm for the
tiny lad, and he never wearied of hearing the story
connected with it. The picture in question was "of
Conway Castle with its Frith, and in the foreground,
a cottage, a fisherman, and a boat at the water's
edge." The story began with the fisherman and his
daily doings, the plot of the drama gradually
thickening until it became "involved with that of
the tragedy of Douglas, and of the Castle Specter,

56 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

in both of which pieces my father had performed in
private theatricals, before my mother, and a select
Edinburgh audience, when he was a boy of sixteen,
and she at grave twenty, a model housekeeper, and
very scornful and religiously suspicious of theatri-
cals. But she was never weary of telling me, in
later years, how beautiful my father looked in his
Highland dress, with the high black feathers." (In
a footnote in his autobiography, Ruskin says,
"This drawing is still over the chimney-piece of
my bedroom at Brantwood.")

The home-life was well ordered by Mrs. Ruskin,
and moved on in a most systematic way. "In the
afternoons, " continues Ruskin, "when my father
returned (always punctually) from his business, he
dined, at half-past four, in the front parlor, my
mother sitting beside him to hear the events of the
day, and give counsel and encouragement with
respect to the same — chiefly the last, for my father
was apt to be vexed if orders for sherry fell the
least short of their due standard, even for a day
or two. I was never present at this time, however,
and only avouch what I relate by hearsay and prob-
able conjecture; for between four and six it would
have been a grave misdemeanor in me if I so much
as approached the parlor door. After that, in sum-
mer time, we were all in the garden as long as the

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 57

day lasted; tea under the white-heart cherry tree;
or, in winter and rough weather, at six o'clock, in
the drawing-room, I having my ■ cup of milk, and
slice of bread-and-butter in a little recess, with a
table in front of it, wholly sacred to me; and in
which I remained in the evenings as an idol in a
niche, while my mother knitted, and my father read
to her — and to me, so far as I chose to listen."

Continuing, he says : "Such being the salutary
pleasures of Heme Hill, I have next with deeper
gratitude to chronicle what I owe to my mother for
the resolutely consistent lessons which so exercised
me in the Scriptures as to make every word of them
familiar to my ear in habitual music — yet in that
familiarity reverenced, as transcending all thought,
and ordaining all conduct. This she effected, not
by her own sayings or personal authority, but simply
by compelling me to read the hook thoroughly, for
myself. As soon as I was able to read with
fluency, she began a course of Bible work with me,
which never ceased till I went to Oxford. She read
alternate verses with me, watching at first every
intonation of my voice, and correcting the false
ones, till she made me understand the verse, if
within my reach, rightly, and energetically. It
might be beyond me altogether; that she did not

58 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

care about ; but she made sure that as soon as I got
hold of it at all, I should get hold of it by the right
end. In this way she began with the first verse of
Genesis, and went straight through, to the last verse
of the Apocalypse ; hard names, numbers, Levitical
law, and all; and began again at Genesis the next
day.

"If a name was hard, the better the exercise in
pronunciation; and if a chapter was tiresome, the
better the lesson in patience; if loathsome, the bet-
ter the lesson in faith that there was some use in
its being so outspoken. After our chapters (from
two to three a day, according to their length, the
first thing after breakfast, and no interruption from
servants allowed — none from visitors, who either
joined in the reading or had to stay upstairs — and
none from any visitings or excursions, except real
traveling), I had to learn a few verses by heart;
or repeat, to make sure I had not lost something of
what was already known ; and with the chapters
thus gradually possessed from the first word to the
last, I had to learn the whole body of the fine old
Scotch paraphrases, which are good, melodious,
and forceful verse ; and to which, together with the
Bible itself, I owe the first cultivation of my ear in
sound." Referring again to the study of the Bible,

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 59

he says : "It is strange that of all the pieces of the
Bible which my mother taught me, that which cost
me most to learn, and which was to my child's
mind chiefly repulsive — the 119th Psalm — has now
become of all the most precious to me, in its overs,
flowing and glorious passion of love for the love
of God, in opposition to the abuse of it by modern
preachers of what they imagine to be His gospel.
But it is only by deliberate effort that I recall the
long morning hours of toil, as regular as sunrise,
toil on both sides equal — by which, year after year,
my mother forced me to learn these paraphases,
and chapters (the eighth of 1st Kings being one —
try it, good reader, in a leisure hour!), allowing
not so much as a syllable to be missed or misplaced ;
while every sentence was required to be said over
and over again till she was satisfied with the accent
of it.

"I recollect a struggle between us of about three
weeks, concerning the accent of the 'of, in the lines
" 'Shall any following spring revive
The ashes of the urn?'

"I insisting, partly in childish obstinacy, and partly
in true instinct for rhythm (being wholly careless
on the subject both of urns and their contents),
on reciting it with an accent of. It was not, I say,

60 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

till after three weeks' labor, that my mother got
the accent lightened on the 'of and laid on the
ashes to her mind. But had it taken three years she
would have done it, having once undertaken to do
it. And, assuredly, had she not done it — well,
there's no knowing what would have happened;
but I'm very thankful she did.

"I have just opened my oldest (in use) Bible — a
small, closely, and very neatly printed volume it is,
printed in Edinburgh by Sir D. Hunter Blair and
J. Bruce, Printers to the King's Most Excellent
Majesty, in 1816. Yellow now, with age, and
flexible, but not unclean, with much use, except
that the lower corners of the pages at 8th of 1st
Kings, and 32nd Deuteronomy, are now somewhat
thin and dark, the learning of these two chapters
having cost me much pains. My mother's list of
the chapters with which thus learned, she estab-
lished my soul in life, has just fallen out of it.*'
(At this point, Ruskin appends the following foot-
note : "This expression in Fors has naturally been
supposed by some readers to mean that my mother
at this time made me vitally and evangelically
religious. The fact was far otherwise. I meant
only that she gave me secure ground for all future
life, practical or spiritual.")

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 61

Continuing, he says : "I will take what indul-
gence the incurious reader can give me, for print-
ing the list thus accidentally occurrent:

Exodus — Chapters 15th and 20th.

2 Samuel — Chapter 1st, from 17th verse to the end.

1 Kings — Chapter 8th.

Psalms — 23rd, 32nd, 90th, 91st, 103rd, 112th, 119th, 139th.

Proverbs — Chapters 2nd, 3rd, 8th, 12th.

Isaiah— Chapter 58th.

Matthew— Chapters 5th, 6th, 7th.

Acts— Chapter 26th.

1 Corinthians — Chapters 13th, 15th.

James — Chapter 4th.

Revelation — Chapters 5th, 6th.

"And truly, though I have picked up the elements
of a little further knowledge — in mathematics,
meteorology, and the like, in after life — and owe
not a little to the teachings of many people, this
maternal installation of my mind in that property
of chapters, I count very confidently the most
precious, and on the whole the one essential, part
of my education."

In this home-training, so thorough and so pains-
taking, and at the same time gentle and loving,
Ruskin counts among the best and truest blessings
which attended his early days the fact that he was

62 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

taught "the perfect meaning of Peace, in thought,
act, and word." Never once did he hear the voice
of either father or mother raised in question with
each other; nor ever did he see "an angry, or even
slightly hurt or offended, glance in the eyes of
either."

He never heard a servant scolded by either of
his parents ; and, in short, states that he never wit-
nessed a moment's disorder or trouble in regard to
any household matter. And so, amid these quiet,
peaceful surroundings, it is not surprising that, as
a child, he learned to know the meaning of peace
in its fullest, truest sense.

Next, he adds, was learned obedience, and faith,
forming with peace a trio of virtues which were
to mold and strengthen his future life.

Among the blessings which attended his child-
hood, Ruskin speaks of "an extreme perfection in
palate and all other bodily senses, given by the utter
prohibition of cake, wine, comfits, or, except in
care fullest restriction, fruit; and by fine prepara-
tion of what food was given me." He felt in
maturer years that this early training laid the
foundation for all future success ; and though deem-
ing his life, during childhood days, far too lonely
and uneventful, as well as too formal and luxurious,

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 63

he never questioned the wisdom of his mother's
methods and principles.*

His parents being anxious that their son should
receive the best advantages, tutors were employed
until he was ready to enter Christ Church College,
at Oxford, from which he graduated at the age of
twenty-three.

The three years of residence at Oxford, Mrs.
Ruskin spent with him, "Not," says he, "because
she could not part with me — still less, because she
distrusted me. She came simply that she might be
at hand in case of accident or sudden illness. She
had always been my physician as well as my nurse ;
on several occasions her timely watchfulness had
saved me from the most serious danger; nor was
her caution now, as will be seen, unjustified by the
event. But, for the first two years of my college
life, I caused her no anxiety; and my day was
always happier because I could tell her at tea what-
ever had pleased or profited me in it." Continuing,
he says, "I count it just a little to my credit that I
was not ashamed, but pleased, that my mother came
to Oxford with me, to take such care of me as she

*Mrs. Ruskin afterwards realized that her son had perhaps been
too much sheltered and protected, and had experienced too little
the hardships necessary for the development of strong manhood.
In regard to this, he says : "My mother saw this herself, and but
too clearly, in later years ; and whenever I did anything wrong,
stupid, or hard-hearted (and I have done many things that were
all three), always said, 'It is because you were too much
indulged'."

64 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

could. Through all the three years of residence,
during term time, she had lodging in the High
Street (first in Mr. Adams' pretty house of six-
teenth century woodwork) ; and my father lived
alone all the week at Heme Hill, parting with wife
and son at once, for the son's sake. On the Satur-
day, he came down to us, and I went with him and
my mother, in the old domestic way, to St. Peter's,
for the Sunday morning service : otherwise they
never appeared with me in public, lest my com-
panions should laugh at me, or anyone else ask
malicious questions concerning vintner papa and his
old-fashioned wife. None of the men, through my
whole college career, ever said one word in depre-
cation of either of them, or in any sarcasm at my
habitually spending my evenings with my mother."
The deep love which he felt for her is evidenced
by the willingness to make any sacrifice for her
sake : "The quite happiest bit of manual work I
ever did was for my mother, in the old inn at Sixt,
when she alleged the stone staircase to have become
unpleasantly dirty since last year. Nobody in the
inn appearing to think it possible to wash it. I
brought the necessary buckets of water from the
yard myself, and poured them into beautiful
image of Versailles waterworks down the fifteen
or twenty steps of the great staircase, and with the

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 65

strongest broom I could find, cleaned every step
into its corners. It was quite lovely work to dash
the water and drive the mud from each, with accu-
mulating splash, down to the next one."

During the third year of Ruskin's Oxford term,
his health became quite seriously impaired, and he
needed the ministrations of the devoted mother,
who nursed him tenderly and who later bore him
away to Heme Hill for a month or two where with
rest and abundance of fresh air he soon regained
health and strength. After college days were over,
the family of three extended their travels on the
Continent, deriving much pleasure and profit there-
from. Mrs. Ruskin felt keen disappointment that
her cherished ambition would not be realized in
seeing her son enter the ministry, but believed in
his ability to rise to some worthy position in the
world, little foreseeing, however, the eminence to
which his future literary efforts would bring him.
The diligent training in early life which she had
bestowed, his college career, and the manifold
advantage of travel, all proved to be excellent
equipment for his chosen life-work.

Little is recorded of Ruskin's affaires de cceur;
but occasionally some reference is made to such
matters, in which his mother took keen interest.
One attachment, especially, caused Mrs. Ruskin

66 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

much uneasiness. This was his fondness for Adele
Domecq, daughter of Mr. Ruskin's partner. She
was "a graceful, oval-faced blonde," attractive and
talented, but a Roman Catholic in faith, which
alone debarred her in the mother's eyes as eligible
to be her son's wife. To Adele he addressed son-
nets, wrote long letters in French, and was for a
time ardent in devotion ; but the affair finally ended,
to the satisfaction of Mrs. Ruskin, in the young
couple drifting apart.

The elder Ruskin, after a long season of ill
health, passed away, being survived for many years
by his wife. Joanna Agnew, a near relative on the
Ruskin side of the house, was employed by Ruskin
to be a companion to his mother, who would, other-
wise, have been left entirely alone. A warm attach-
ment sprang up between the two women, who for
seven years — until Joanna's marriage — lived to-
gether in great congeniality.

;£ ;jc ^c ^c ^c ^c :£

The incompleteness of Ruskin's autobiography
brings to an abrupt ending the brief story of his
mother's life, which is so closely interwoven with
that of her idolized son.

The family record, as given by Ruskin, shows
that she lived to the advanced age of ninety-one
years, dying in the year 187 1.

Ill

MARGARET AITKEN
CARLYLE

MOTHER OF
THOMAS CARLYLE

"If there has been any good in the things I have
uttered in the world's hearing, it was your voice
essentially that was speaking through me!' —
Thomas Carlyle.

THE little market town, Ecclefechan, in
Dumfriesshire, Scotland, where lived
the Carlyle family, was typically Scotch,
both in general aspect and in mode of life. A
single street, on one side of which ran an open
brook, was bordered by plain, unpretentious dwell-
ings, presenting a cold but clean and orderly
appearance, suggestive of thrift and of an un-
assuming manner of living.

The Carlyle home was perhaps the only one
having any pretension to originality of architec-
ture. It was a double house, with central arch
dividing; one side being occupied by James Car-

68 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

lyle, while his brother, wbo was his partner in
trade, lived in the other.

In 1 79 1, James Carlyle married a distant cousin,
Janet Carlyle, who died not long afterwards, leav-
ing a son named John. Two years after the death
of Janet Carlyle, James Carlyle married Margaret
Aitken, a young woman of many fine traits of char-
acter, of amiable disposition and quiet tastes. Four
sons and five daughters (one of the latter named
Janet for the first wife) were born to James and
Margaret Carlyle.

The affairs of the household were conducted by
the mother with greatest economy and prudence;
the father, who followed the trade of a mason,
earning, when most actively at work, only one hun-
dred pounds a year for the support of his large
family. By skillful management, the slender in-
come was wisely expended, and the home-life
moved smoothly on — no allusion ever being made
to poverty, for in the life of Ecclefechan the Car-
lyle family was accounted prosperous. The
family living consisted mainly of potatoes, oatmeal,
and milk; the children were plainly but neatly
dressed, and ran about the streets barefooted, con-
tented, and happy. Of the necessities of life they
had abundance ; of its luxuries they knew little, and
felt not the lack.

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 69

Of the nine children born to James and Mar-
garet Carlyle, Thomas, born December 4, 1795,
was the eldest. Between the mother and her first-
born child there always seemed to be a peculiarly
strong bond of affection and congeniality; and, in
writing of her, Thomas Carlyle says, "She was a
woman of, to me, the fairest descent, that of the
pious, the just, and the wise."

In his will, Carlyle expressed a desire that no
biography of himself should be written; but recog-
nizing the fact that his request would, in all prob-
ability, be disregarded, later made arrangements
with friends in order that, since it must be written,
the biography should be authentic. And it is to his
life history, and to his correspondence with his
mother, that we turn to find the story of her life.

When her children were quite small, they were
taught by Mrs. Carlyle to read; but as she knew
nothing of writing, their education under her in-
struction was extremely limited. Later, however,
she learned to write, for the express purpose of
corresponding with the idolized son, Thomas.

To the father fell the task of instructing the
children in arithmetic; and at five years of age
Thomas commenced the study of mathematics,
having already been taught by his mother to read.
Soon he was far enough advanced in his studies

yo MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

to be sent to the village school. Like most of the
Carlyles, he was possessed of a violent temper,
and his companions in the schoolroom were not
oblivious to that fact, making life, at times, quite
unpleasant for him. Carlyle, himself, says that his
earliest recollection was of being "in a howling
rage," when only two years old, and of throwing
his little brown stool at his half-brother John, who
lived at his grandfather's, and occasionally came to
visit his father. A leg of the stool was broken, and
Thomas says that he "felt for the first time, the
united pangs of loss and remorse." Mrs. Carlyle,
foreseeing the unhappiness in store for Thomas if
his temper were not restrained, made him promise
never to return a blow. It is said that he tried
faithfully to keep this promise; and to the ever-
watchful care of his mother "for body and soul,"
he always said that he "owed ceaseless gratitude."
Of the home-life, and of his parents, Carlyle
writes: "It was not a joyful life, but what life is?
Yet a safe and quiet one, above most others, or any
other I have witnessed, a wholesome one. We
were taciturn rather than talkative ; but if little was
said, that little had generally a meaning. More re-
markable man than my father I have never met in
my journey through life; sterling sincerity in
thought, word, and deed; most quiet, but capable

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 71

of blazing into whirlwinds when needful ; and such
a flash of just insight and brief natural eloquence
and emphasis, true to every feature of it, as I have
never known in any other. Humor of a most grim
Scandinavian type he occasionally had, wit rarely
or never — too serious for wit — my excellent mother
with perhaps the deeper piety in most senses had
also the most sport. No man of my day, or hardly
any man, can have had better parents."

As Thomas grew older, the comradeship between
mother and son grew stronger, while the father
was always held in awe. "We all had to complain,"
says Carlyle, "that we dared not freely love our
father. His heart seemed as if walled in. My
mother has owned to me that she could never
understand him, and that her affection and admira-
tion of him were obstructed. It seemed as if an
atmosphere of fear repelled us from him, me espe-
cially. My heart and tongue played freely with
my mother."

Both parents were exceedingly ambitious for the
education of Thomas, so in the fall of 1809, when
he had reached the age of fourteen years, it was
decided that he should enter the University at Edin-
burgh. Under the guardianship of an elder lad, he
was to walk the entire distance of one hundred
miles, as the limited family purse did not admit of

72 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

coach-hire. Fifty-seven years later he wrote:
"How strangely vivid, how remote and wonderful,
tinged with the hues of far-off love and sadness, is
that journey to me now, after fifty-seven years of
time ! My mother and father walking with me in
the dark frosty November morning through the
village to set us on our way — my dear and loving
mother, her tremulous affection . . . . "

Life in Edinburgh was full of new and interest-
ing experiences ; but, in order to secure the coveted
education, Carlyle was compelled to live in a most
frugal manner, being unable to afford other than
the simplest food. Potatoes, oatmeal, and eggs,
were sent occasionally from home by the loving
mother, to supplement the scanty fare.

Destined by his parents to become a minister,
and knowing this to be the most ardent desire of
their life, Carlyle set about to prepare himself for
that calling, realizing all the while that he did not
have "the least enthusiasm for that business." In
fact, he was aware, even then, that "grave pro-
hibitory doubts were gradually rising ahead."

Leaving college with still before him the intent
of entering the ministry, Carlyle accepted a tutor-
ship at Annan. The only redeeming feature con-
nected with this position was that he was now
much nearer to his home, and the mother to whom

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 73

he was most tenderly devoted. Annan, with its un-
pleasant memories of early schooldays, he heartily
detested; and when not engaged in teaching, he
shut himself up among his books. Amid these
gloomy surroundings, the only gleam of brightness
that cheered his weary existence was the corres-
pondence with his mother, his love for whom is
said, by his biographer, Froude, to have been "the
strongest personal passion which he experienced
through all his life."

James Carlyle, having retired from active busi-
ness in Ecclefechan, the Carlyle family moved to
Mainhill, a farm two miles distant, in a bleak and -
cheerless locality. Here, in a low, whitewashed
cottage, consisting of three rooms, lived the father,
mother, and eight children; the father and sons
cultivating the little farm, while the mother and
daughters attended to household duties, and cared
for poultry and cows, assisting also in the field at -,
harvest time. Thomas spent his holidays at home,
and it was at Mainhill that he "first learned Ger-
man, studied 'Faust' in a dry ditch, and completed
his translation of 'Wilhelm Meister'."

The correspondence between mother and son,
which continued whenever he was absent from
home, was not voluminous on her part; for Mar-
garet Carlyle only learned to write after she had

74 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

reached mature years, and it was no easy matter
for her to pen even a short letter. But to her,
no sacrifice was too great to be made for her be-
loved "Tom"; and a like affection was returned by
him. Whatever he earned — however little the
amount — he was eager to share with her. She
was the one person who believed in him, prayed for
him in agony when she thought him unbelieving,
and in a transport of joy when she thought him
safe in belief. She became ill if she did not hear
from him as often as she expected; and his letters
to her were treasured next to her Bible.

At the end of two years, Carlyle received an
appointment at Kirkcaldy, and here life was to
some extent more pleasant than at Annan. He,
however, "hated schoolmastering" to such a degree
that the new position was liked by him far less
than he would admit to his mother, who rejoiced to
think that he was now situated amid more con-
genial surroundings.

Margaret Carlyle was a Calvinist of the most
pronounced type, and the spiritual welfare of her
children was her constant concern. The eldest
son was the object of her chief est hopes, and she
grieved to see that he had no inclination to be a
minister, which from his infancy had been her
great desire.

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 75

The following letter is most characteristic:

Mainhill: June 10, 1817
Dear Son:

I take this opportunity of writing you a few lines, as
you will get it free. I long to have a craik [familiar
talk], and look forward to August, trusting to see thee
once more, but in hope the meantime. Oh, Tom, mind
the golden season of youth, and remember your Creator
in the days of youth. Seek God while He may be found.
Call upon him while he is near. We hear that the world
by wisdom knew not God. Pray for his presence with
you and His counsel to guide you.

Have you got through the Bible yet? If you have, read
it again. I hope you will not weary, and may the Lord
open your understanding.

I have no news to tell you, but thank God we are all
in an ordinary way. I hope you are well. I thought you
would have written me before now. I received your
present and was very proud of it I called it "my son's
venison." Do write as soon as this comes to hand and
tell us all your news. I am glad you are so contented in
your place. We ought all to be thankful for our places
in these distressing times, for I dare say they are felt
keenly.

We send you a piece of ham and a minding of butter,
as I am sure yours is done before now. Tell us about
it in your next, and if anything is wanting.

Good night, Tom, for it is a stormy night, and I must
away to the byre to milk.

Now, Tom, be sure to tell me about your chapters.
No more from

Your Old Minnie

76 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Letters from other members of the family came
frequently, also, to the absent brother, for the
Carlyles were "a clannish folk" ; and they felt not
only deep affection for each other, but an increas-
ing pride in the one of their number whose
scholarly gifts they recognized and held in high
estimation.

These letters from home give an interesting
picture of country life at Mainhill. The family
was an industrious one — the younger children
attending school, and helping with home duties ;
while the older children assisted in the cultivation
of the farm. Such spare time as was obtainable in
this busy life, was given over to the reading of
history, or of Scott's novels, or books of like nature,
from the very limited library.

In the summer of 1817, the mother, overburdened
with the cares and duties of farm life, suffered a
heavy illness. For a time her physical condition
was very serious, and this state of health finally
told upon her mental faculties, which became over-
clouded to such an extent that it was found neces-
sary to take her away from home for a few weeks
for treatment. For this removal from home, she
never fully forgave the family, always afterward
referring to it in her humorous way. With the
return of physical strength, she soon, however,

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 77

regained vigor of mind, and resumed her former
active, industrious manner of life. A letter to
Thomas Carlyle from his brother, John, speaks of
the mother's improved condition, after her severe
illness.

Mainhill: September 16, 1818
Dear Brother :

We received yours and it told of your safe arrival at
Kirkcaldy. Our mother has grown better every day since
you left us. She is as steady as ever she was, has been
upon haystacks three or four times, and has been at
church every Sabbath since she came home, behaving
always very decently. Also she has given over talking and
singing, and spends some of her time consulting Ralph
Erskine. She sleeps every night, and hinders no person
to sleep, but can do with less than the generality of peo-
ple. In fact, we may conclude that she is as wise as could
be expected. She has none of the hypocritical mask with
which some people clothe their sentiments. One day,
having met Agg Byers, she says: "Weel, Agg, lass, I've
never spoken t'ye sin ye stole our coals. I'll gie ye advice :
never steal nae more."

In a letter from Alexander Carlyle there is the
following allusion to a gift from Thomas :

The box which contained my mother's bonnet came a
day or two ago. She is very well pleased with it, though
my father thought it too gaudy, but she proposes writing
to you herself.

78 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

All idea of entering the ministry had now been
abandoned by Carlyle. In a note to a friend, he
said : "With me, it [the ministry] was never much
in favor, though my parents much wished it, as
I knew well. Finding that I had objections, my
father, with a magnanimity which I admired and
admire, left me frankly to my own guidance in that
matter, as did my mother, perhaps still more
lovingly, though not so silently."

In December, 1818, Carlyle left Kirkcaldy for
Edinburgh, and a letter from his mother expresses,
at this time, her continued solicitude for his wel-
fare, both temporal and spiritual:

Mainhill: January 3, 1819
Dear Son :

I received yours in due time, and was glad to hear
you were well. I hope you will be healthier, moving
about in the city, than in your former way. Health is a
valuable privilege; try to improve on it then. The time
is short. Another year has commenced. Time is on the
wing, and flies swiftly. Seek God with all your heart;
and oh, my dear son, cease not to pray for His counsel
in all his ways. Fear not the world, you will be provided
for as He sees meet for you.

As a sincere friend, whom you are always dear to, I
beg you do not neglect reading a part of your Bible
daily, and may the Lord open your eyes to see wondrous
things out of his law !

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 79

But it is now two o'clock in the morning, and a bad
pen, bad ink, and I am bad at writing.
I will drop it, and add no more, but remain.
Your loving mother

Peggie Carlyle

"Schoolmastering" had, by this time, become too
distasteful to him to continue longer at it, and, after
considering civil engineering, for which his love of
mathematics gave him natural inclination, Carlyle
decided to commence the study of law. His
family, although silently disapproving the step he
had taken, rendered what assistance they could give
toward his support while thus engaged. Fre-
quently there came from home supplies of oat-
meal, butter, potatoes, etc., and at times clothing
was also sent to him. His soiled linen was returned
for the mother to wash and mend, simple gifts
often accompanying the bundle. Money was
scarce, and Carlyle had necessarily to school him-
self to thrifty, self-denying habits; but with reso-
lution he faced the situation which confronted him.
One hundred pounds had been saved from his
earnings ; and this, supplemented by assistance
from home, must serve him for a long time.

As his first exercise in the Divinity School, he
had written a sermon on the salutary effects of
"afflictions." His biographer, Froude, says: "He

80 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

was beginning now, in addition to the problem of
living which he had to solve, to learn what afflic-
tion meant. He was attacked with dyspepsia,
which never wholly left him, and in those early
years assumed its most torturing form; 'like a rat
gnawing at the pit of his stomach/ His disorder
working on his natural irritability, found escape in
expressions which showed, at any rate, that he was
attaining a mastery of language."

In spite, however, of the attendant woes
occasioned by ill-health and insufficient means,
Carlyle was not losing heart, for he liked his new
profession, and was studying diligently. Writing
to his mother, he says : "The law is what I some-
times think I was intended for naturally. I am
afraid it takes several hundreds to become an
advocate ; but for this I should commence the study
of it with great hopes of success. We shall see
whether it is possible. One of the first advocates
of the day raised himself from being a discon-
solate preacher to his present eminence. There-
fore, I entreat you not to be uneasy about me. I
see none of my fellows with whom I am very
anxious to change places. Tell the boys not to let
their hearts be troubled for me. I am a stubborn
dog, and evil fortune shall not break my heart, or
bend it either, as I hope. I know not how to speak

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 81

about the washing, which you offer so kindly.
Surely you thought, five years ago, that this trouble-
some washing and baking was all over; and now to
recommence ! I can scarcely think of troubling
you; yet the clothes are ill-washed here; and if
the box be going and coming anyway, perhaps you
can manage it."

In order to make his small amount of capital
hold out during the term in Edinburgh, Carlyle
attempted to obtain a few pupils, but this
measure did not prove successful. He was, how-
ever, employed by Dr. Brewster (afterward Sir
David) to assist in work on an encyclopedia, and
this brought him in about two pounds a week,
enabling him to live in greater comfort.

Letters from his mother continued to come, bring-
ing encouragement and loving counsel. Hearing
of the death of an aunt, he wrote the following:

Edinburgh, Monday, March 29th, 1819
My Dear Mother:

I am so much obliged to you for the affectionate con-
cern which you express for me in that long letter that I
cannot delay to send you a few brief words by way of
reply. I was affected by the short notice you gave me of
Aunt Mary's death, and the short reflections with which
you close it. It is true, my dear mother, "that we must
all soon follow her" — such is the unalterable and not

82 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

pleasing doom of men. Then it is well for those who, at
that awful moment which is before every one, shall be
able to look back with calmness and forward with hope.
But I need not dwell upon this solemn subject. It is
familiar to the thoughts of every one who has any thought.

I am rather afraid I have not been quite regular in
reading that best of books which you recommend to me.
However, last night I was reading upon my favorite Job,
and I hope to do better in time to come.

I entreat you to believe that I am sincerely desirous of
being a good man; and though we may differ in some
unimportant particulars, yet I firmly trust that the same
power which created us with imperfect faculties will
pardon the errors of every one (and none are without
them) who seeks truth and righteousness with a simple
heart.

You need not fear my studying too much. In fact, my
prospects are so unsettled that I do not often sit down
to books with all the zeal I am capable of. You need not
think I am fretful. I have long accustomed myself to
look upon the future with a sedate aspect, and at any
rate my hopes have never yet failed me. A French author,
D'Alembert (one of the few persons who deserve the
honorable epithet of honest man), whom I was lately
reading, remarks that one who devoted his life to learn-
ing ought to carry for his motto : "Liberty, Truth,
Poverty"; for he that fears the latter can never have the
former. This should not prevent one from using every
honest effort to attain a comfortable situation in life ; it
says only that the best is dearly bought by base conduct,
and the worst is not worth mourning over.

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 83

We shall speak of all these matters more fully in sum-
mer, for I am meditating just now to come down and
stay awhile with you, accompanied with a cargo of books —
Italian, German, and others. You will give me yonder
little room, and you will waken me every morning about
five or six o'clock. Then such study. I shall delve in
the garden, too, and in a word, become not only the
wisest, but the strongest man in these regions. This is
all claver, but it pleases one.

My dear mother, yours most affectionately

Thomas Carlyle

The name of D'Alembert had never come within
the scope of Mrs. Carlyle's knowledge, and fearing
that her son might be entering into perilous paths,
she wrote to him immediately:

Oh, my dear son, I would pray for a blessing on your
learning. I beg you with all the feeling of an affectionate
mother that you study the Word of God, which He has
graciously put in our hands that it may powerfully reach
our hearts, that we may discern it in its true light.

God made man after His own image, therefore he be-
hoved to be without any imperfect faculties. Beware, my
dear son, of such thoughts ; let them not dwell on your
mind. God forbid ! But I dare say you will not care
to read this scrawl. Do make religion your great study,
Tom ; if you repent it, I will bear the blame forever.

And his state of mind in regard to religion, was,
indeed, now uncertain and gloomy. Froude says
.... "Carlyle was thinking as much as his mother

84 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

of religion, but the form in which his thoughts
were running was not hers. He was painfully see-
ing that all things were not wholly as he had been
taught to think them ; the doubts which had stopped
his divinity career were blackening into thunder-
clouds; and all his reflections were colored by dys-
pepsia." He was entering now upon the "three
most miserable years of my life," and in addition
to religious doubts and fears, his intended profes-
sion was, at this time, becoming distasteful to him.
England and Scotland were in an unhappy polit-
ical state; many people were without work, and
their families on the verge of starvation; and,
altogether, conditions and circumstances during
these unhappy years were calculated to leave im-
pressions upon Carlyle which may be traced
throughout his writings. A summer spent at home,
after the session at Edinburgh, did not bring hap-
piness nor relief from doubt and deep question-
ings. The pious family at Mainhill accepted the
Bible "as a direct communication from Heaven,"
at the same time reposing a calm and implacable
faith in the Westminster Confession, and could
little sympathize with the unhappy frame of mind
in which Thomas was now living. He says that
he "was tortured by the freaks of an imagination
of extraordinary and wild activity," which made

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 85

him most miserable. Unable to read, he wandered
restlessly over the moors; the father, with good
judgment, leaving him to himself, but the agonizing
mother could not keep back her pleadings and
lamentations, for her eldest son was the chief object
of her love and ambition.

In November, 1819, Thomas returned to Edin-
burgh, and resumed the study of law. Writing to
his mother in a more cheerful vein, he says : "The
law I find to be a most complicated subject, yet I
like it pretty well and feel that I shall like it better
as I proceed. Its great charm in my eyes is that
no mean compliances are requisite for prospering
in it."

The winter proved to be far from pleasant, for
a severe attack of dyspepsia gave him much un-
easiness and alarmed the family greatly as to his
physical condition. A letter from his brother John,
dated Mainhill, February, 1820, says : "Your
father and mother and all of us are extremely
anxious that you should come home directly, if pos-
sible, if you think you can come without danger.
And we trust that, notwithstanding the bitterness of
last summer, you will still find it emphatically a
home. My mother bids me call upon you to do so,
by every tie of affection, and by all that is sacred.

86 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

She esteems seeing you again, and administering
comfort to you, as her highest felicity."

The mother knew well his disposition, and
feared the effect of his despondent and irritable
condition of mind. She had early described him
as "gey ill to live wi'," but no one knew quite so
well how to deal with his peculiarities and idiosyn-
crasies as she, nor could so lovingly and anxiously
foresee and meet his wants. The attack finally
passed off, and Thomas, having recovered some-
what both health and spirits, remained in Edin-
burgh, diligently pursuing his studies.

In the spring of this year the following letter
came to his mother:

Edinburgh, March 29th, 1820
To you, my dear mother, I can never be sufficiently
grateful, not only for the common kindness of a mother,
but for the unceasing watchfulness with which, you strove
to instil virtuous principles into my young mind; and
though we are separated at present, and may be still more
widely separated, I hope the lessons which you taught
will never be effaced from my memory.

I cannot say how I have fallen into this train of thought,
but the days of childhood arise with so many pleasing
recollections, and shine so brightly across the tempests
and inquietudes of succeeding times, that I feel unable to
resist the impulse.

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 87

You already know that I am pretty well as to health,
and also that I design to visit you again before many
months have elapsed. I cannot say that my prospects,
have got much brighter since I left you; the aspect of
the future is still as unsettled as it ever was; but some
degree of patience is behind, and hope, the charmer, that
"springs eternal in the human breast," is yet here likewise,
I am not of a humor to care very much for good or evil
fortune, so far as concerns myself; the thought that my
somewhat uncertain condition gives you uneasiness
chiefly grieves me. Yet I would not have you despair of
your ribe of a boy. He mill do something yet. He is a
shy stingy soul, and very likely has a higher notion of his
parts than others have. But on the other hand, he is not
incapable of diligence. He is harmless, and possesses the
virtue of his country — thrift; so that, after all, things will
yet be right in the end.

My love to all the little ones.

Your affectionate son

T. Cari,yi^

In December of the same year, another letter
showed him to be still battling with conflicting
doubts and beliefs — writing a little at times, and
keeping always before him the determination
which his mother's unwavering faith in him sus-
tained, "to do something yet."

I know full well and feel deeply that you entertain the
most solicitous anxiety about my temporal, and still more
about my eternal welfare; as to the former of which, I

88 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

have still hopes that all your tenderness will yet be repaid;
and as to the latter, though it becomes not the human
worm to boast, I would fain persuade you not to enter-
tain so many doubts.

Your character and rriine are far more similar than you
imagine, and our opinions too, though clothed in different
garbs, are, I well know, still analogous at bottom. I
respect your religious sentiments, and honor you for feel-
ing them more than if you were the highest woman in the
world without them. Be easy, I entreat you, on my
account; the world will use me better than before; and if
it should not, let us hope to meet in that upper country
when the vain fever of life is gone by, in the country
where all darkness will be light, and where the exercise
of our affections will not be thwarted by the infirmities
of human nature any more.

Brewster will give me articles enough. Meanwhile my
living here is not to cost me anything, at least for a sea-
son more or less. I have two hours of teaching, which
both gives me a call to walk and brings in four guineas a
month.

A few weeks later he wrote again :

January 30th, 1821
My employment, you are aware, is still very fluctuating,
but this I trust will improve. I am advancing, I think,
though leisurely, and at least I feel no insuperable doubts
of getting honest bread, which is all I want. For as to
fame and all that, I see it already to be nothing better
than a meteor, a will-o'-the-wisp which leads one on
through quagmires and pitfalls to catch an object which,

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 89

when we have caught it, turns out to be nothing. I am
happy to think in the meantime that you do not feel
uneasy about my future destiny. Providence, as you
observe, will order it better or worse, and with His award,
so nothing mean or wicked lie before me, I shall study to
rest satisfied.

It is a striking thing, and alarming to those who are at
ease in the world, to think how many living things that
had breath and hope within them when I left Ecclefechan
are now numbered with the clods of the valley! Surely
there is something obstinately stupid in the heart of man,
or the flight of three-score years, and the poor joys or
poorer cares of this our pilgrimage would never move as
they do. Why do we fret and murmur, and toil, and con-
sume ourselves for objects so transient and frail? Is it
that the soul, living here as her prison-house, strives after
something boundless like herself, and finding it nowhere,
still renews the search? Surely we are fearfully and
wonderfully made. But I must not pursue these specu-
lations, though they force themselves upon us sometimes
even without our asking.

This gloomy period of Carlyle's life was happily
drawing to a close, and brighter days were dawn-
ing. From the dear mother in the little farmhouse
came encouraging words:

Mainhill: March 21st, 1821
Son Tom:

I received your kind and pleasant letter. Nothing is

more satisfying to me than to hear of your welfare. Keep

up your heart, my brave boy. You ask kindly after my

9c MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

health. I complain as little as possible. When the day
is cheerier it has great effect on me. But on the whole
I am as well as I can expect, thank God. I have sent t*
little butter and a few cakes with a box to bring home
your clothes. Send them all home that I may wash and
sort them once more. Oh, man could I but write! I'll
tell ye a' when we meet, but I must in the meantime
content myself. Do send me a long letter; it revives me
greatly; and tell me honestly if you read your chapter
e'en and morn, lad. You mind I hod if not your hand, I
hod your foot of it.

Tell me if there is anything you want in particular. I
must run to pack the box, so I am

Your affectionate mother

Margaret Carlyle

It was during the year 1821 that Carlyle finally
emerged from the conflict with doubt, and dated
the time of his "spiritual new birth." From that
period he states that he "began to be a. new man."
An intimate friend, Edward Irving, was through-
out this season of unbelief a faithful counselor and
confidant. Of his friendship, Carlyle writes :
"Such friend as I never had again or before in this
world, at heart constant till he died."

It is needless to say that his mother's heart re-
joiced greatly in her son's change of attitude toward
things spiritual ; and his decision was a source of
profound satisfaction to her.

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 91

Carlyle's literary productions were now receiving
more recognition than formerly, and his financial
condition accordingly was much improved. With
this to encourage him, he spent more freely of his
income in sending gifts to the father and mother,
who had been ever thoughtful of his temporal wel-
fare when his meager income scarcely afforded a
living. On one occasion he sent to his father a pair
of spectacles, and to his mother "a little sovereign
to keep the fiend out of hussif." In an accom-
panying note, he wrote his mother:

You will tell me I am poor and have so few of these
coins ; but I am going to have plenty by-and-by ; and if
I had but one I cannot see how I could purchase more
enjoyment with it than if I shared it with you. Be not in
want of anything, I entreat you, that I can possibly get for
you. It would be hard indeed if in the autumn of life —
the spring and summer of which you have spent well in
taking care of us — we should know what would add to
your frugal enjoyments and not procure it.

The stockings and other things you sent me are of
additional value in my eyes, as proofs of the unwearied
care with which you continue to watch over me. I still
hope to see the day when I may acknowledge all this
more effectually. I think you wanted a bonnet when I
was at home. Do not buy any until after the box returns.

Through his friend, Edward Irving, Carlyle in
1822 was offered a position of tutor to the two sons

92 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Buller, of London (Mr.
Buller being a retired English gentleman of
eminence).

The salary was to 'be two hundred pounds a year,
which, in spite of a dislike for "schoolmastering,"
could not be disregarded, as times were hard and
money difficult to obtain.

In writing to his mother at this time, Carlyle
says, with reference to his new position and the
mistress of the house:

"The woman, Irving says, is a gallant, accomplished
person, and will respect one well. He warned her that I
had seen little of life, and was disposed to be rather high
in the humor if not well used. The plan, if I like it and
be fit for it, will be advantageous for me in many respects.
I shall have time for study and convenience for it and
plenty of cash.

At the same time, as it is uncertain, I do not make it
my lower anchor by any means. If it go to nothing alto-
gether, I shall snap my finger and thumb in the face of
all the Indian judges of the earth, and return to my poor
desk and quill with as hard a heart as ever.

A later letter gives glimpses of his daily life,
showing him to be pleased with the position, yet
uncertain as to keeping it for any length of time:

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 93

3 Moray Street:

Edinburgh, June 2, 1822

It will give you pleasure to know that I continue im-
proving in that most important of qualities, good health.
The bathing does me great good, and you need be under
no apprehension of my drowning. Unfortunately my mode
of sleeping is too irregular to admit of my bathing con-
stantly before breakfast. Small noises disturb me and
keep me awake, though I always get to sleep at last, and
happily such disturbances occur but rarely.

Some two weeks ago I had a little adventure with an
ugly messan, which a crazy half-pay captain had thought
proper to chain in his garden, or rather, grass-plot, about
twenty yards from my window. The pug felt unhappy in
its new situation, began repining very pitifully in its own
way; at one time snarling, grinning, yelping, as if it cared
not whether it were hanged then or tomorrow ; at another,
whining, howling, screaming, as if it meant to excite the
compassion of the world at large — this at intervals for
the whole night.

By five o'clock in the morning, I would have given a
guinea of gold for its hind legs firm in my right hand
by the side of a stone wall.

Next day the crazy captain removed it, being threatened
by the street at large with prosecution if he did not. But
on the evening of the second day, being tired of keeping
the cur in his kitchen, he again let it out, and just as I
was falling asleep about one o'clock, the same musical,
"most musical, most melancholy" serenade aroused me
from my vague dreamings.

94 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

I listened about half an hour, then rose indignantly, put
on my clothes, went out, and charged the watchman to
put an instant stop to the accursed thing. The watchman
could not for the world interfere with a gentleman's rest
at that hour, but next morning he would certainly, etc. etc.

I asked to be shown the door, and pulling the crazy
captain's bell about six times, his servant at length awoke
and inquired with a tremulous voice, what was it? I
alluded to the dog and demanded the instant, the total,
the everlasting removal of it, or tomorrow I would see
whether justice was in Edinburgh, or the shadow of British
law in force. "Do you hear that?" said the Irish knight
of the rattle and lantern. She heard it and obeyed, and
no wretched messan has since disturbed my slumbers.

You ask about my home-coming; but this must be a
very uncertain story for awhile. I cannot count on any
such thing till the Buller people are arrived, and in the
event of my farther engaging with them, my period of
absence must of course be short. However, there is good
and cheap conveyance to Dumfries daily, and it shall go
hard if I do not steal a week or so to spend at home. It
is the dearest blessing of my life that I have you to write
to and care for me.

I am in very fair health considering everything; about
a hundred times as well as I was last year, and as happy
as you ever saw me. In fact, I want nothing but steady
health of body (which I shall get in time) to be one of
the comfortablest persons of my acquaintance.

I have also books to write and things to say and do in
this world which few wot of. This has the air of vanity,
but it is not altogether so. I consider that my Almighty

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 95

Author has given me some glimmerings of superior under-
standing and mental gifts ; and I should reckon it the
worst treason against Him to neglect improving and
using to the very utmost of my power these His bountiful
mercies. At some future day it shall go hard, but I will
stand above these mean men whom I have never yet stood
with.

But we need not prate of this. I am very much satisfied
with my teaching. In fact, it is a pleasure instead of a
task. The Bullers are quite another sort of boys than I
have been used to, and treat me in another sort of manner
than tutors are used to. When I think of General Dixon's
brats, and how they used to vex me, I often wonder I
had not broken their backs at once, and left them. This
would not have done, to be sure; but the temptation was
considerable. The elder Buller is one of the cleverest
boys I have ever seen. He delights to enquire and argue
and be demolished. Ke follows me almost nigh home
every night. Very likely I may bargain finally with the
people, but I have no certain intimation on the subject;
and in fact, I do not care immensely whether or not.
There is bread for the diligent to be gained in a thousand
ways.

It was finally decided that Carlyle should con-
tinue as tutor in the Buller family, and writing to
his mother he said:

Tea I now consume with urns and china and splendid
apparatus all around me, yet I often turn from these
grandeurs to the little "down the house" at Mainhill, where
kind affection makes amends for all deficiencies.

96 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Often there, my dear mother, in coming years, we shall
yet drink tea there, enjoy our pipes and friendly chat
together, and pity all the empty gorgeousness of the earth.

In October, after a brief visit to Mainhill from
the loved Thomas, his mother received the follow-
ing letter, showing that her anxiety as to his spirit-
ual state had again been aroused:

Edinburgh, November 14th, 1822
You have not sent me a line since I went away. I am
not surprised at this, knowing how you are circumstanced,
but it keeps me very much in the dark with regard to
your situation. I can only hope you are in your usual
state of health and spirits, fighting as formerly against
the inconveniences of your present life, and brightening
all its dreariness by the hopes of a better. There is nothing
else that can keep the happiest of us in a state of peace,
worth calling by the name of peace ; and "with this anchor
of the soul both sure and steadfast" the unhappiest man
alive is to be envied. You think I am a very thoughtless
character, careless of eternity, and taken up with vain
concerns of time alone. Depend on it, my dear mother,
you misjudge me. These thoughts are rooted in every
reflecting mind, in mine perhaps more deeply than. in many
that make more noise about them; and of all the qualities
that I love in you, there is none I so much love as that
feeling of devotion which elevates you as much above the
meanness of ordinary persons in your situation which
gives to the humble circumstances of your lot a dignity
unborrowed of earthly grandeur as well as far superior to

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 97

the highest state of it; and which ornaments a mind un-
trained in worldly education and accomplishments with
sentiments after which mere literature and philosophy
with all their pretensions would forever strive in vain.
The dress of our opinions, as I have often told you, may
be different, because our modes of life have been different,
but fundamentally our sentiments are completely the same.
We should tolerate each other, therefore, in this world,
where all is weak and obscure, trusting meanwhile that
we shall comprehend all things more perfectly in that
clearer land where faith is changed into vision; where
the dim though fervent longings of our minds from this
dark prison-house are changed for a richness of actual
grandeur beyond what the most ardent imagination has
ventured to conceive.

Long may these hopes be yours, my dearest mother.
Whoever entertains them is richer than kings.

The Bullers are gone to college a few days ago, and I
do not go near them till two o'clock in the afternoon. By
this means I do not only secure a competent space of time
for my own studies, but find also that my stomach troubles
me a good deal less after breakfast than it used to do
when I had a long hurried walk to take before it.

My duties are of an easy and brief sort. I dine at half-
past three with a small and very civil youth, little
Reginald, contracted into Reggy, and I have generally
done with the whole against six. I find Jack immersed
in study when I return. He cooks the tea for us, and we
afterwards devote ourselves to business till between eleven
and twelve.

98 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

My brotherly love to all the younkers about home, to
each by name. Why do they never write? Will you not
write ?

I am, ever affectionately your son — thy son!

T. Cari^yle

On December 4, he wrote:

It is already past twelve o'clock, and I am tired and
sleepy, but I cannot go to rest without answering the kind
little note which you sent me, and acknowledging these
new instances of your unwearied attention to my interests
and comfort. I am almost vexed at these shirts and stock-
ings. My dear mother, why will you expend on super-
fluities the pittance I intended for very different ends? I
again assure you, and would swear to it if needful, that
you cannot get me such enjoyment with it in any way as
by convincing me that it is adding to your own. Do not
therefore frustrate my purposes. I send you a small
screed of verses which I made some time ago. I fear you
will not care a droit for them, though the subject is good
— the deliverance of Switzerland from tyranny by the
hardy mountaineers at the battle of Morgarten above five
hundred years ago.

This is my birthday. I am now seven-and-twenty years
of age. What an unprofitable lout I am! What have I
done in this world to make my good place in it, or reward
those that had the trouble of my upbringing? Great part
of an ordinary life-time is gone by, and here am I, poor
trifler, still sojourning in Mesech, still doing nothing in
the tents of Kedar. May the great Father of all give me
strength, to do better in time remaining, to be of service

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 99

in the good cause in my day and generation; and having
finished the work which was given me to do, to lie down
and sleep in peace and purity in the hope of a happy rising.

The first of January brought to Carlyle a letter
from his father, including the following greeting
from his mother:

Your mother wishes you a happy new year, and she
wishes it may be the best you ever have seen, and the
worst you ever may see.

Her eldest son was still, as always, uppermost in
her mind, and he in return, never failed to regard
her first; and was constantly thinking of ways to
satisfy her needs and desires. Although she might
write back, "Dear bairn, I want for nothing,'' he
would quickly reply "she must understand that she
could not gratify him so much as by enabling him
to promote her comfort."

Life [he wrote] is still in prospect to Jack [a brother]
and me. We are not yet what we hope to be. Jack is
going to become a large gawsie broad-faced practiser of
physic, to ride his horse in time, to give aloes by the rule,
to make money and to be a large man; while I, in spite of
all my dyspepsias and nervousness and hypochondrias, am
still bent on being a very meritorious sort of character,
rather noted in the world of letters, if it so please Provi-
dence, and useful, I hope, whithersoever I go in the good
old cause, for which I beg you to believe that I cordially

ioo MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

agree with you in feeling my chief interest, however we
may differ in our modes of expressing it

In the spring of 1823, the Bullers having re-
moved to Kinnaird House, a handsome residence
in Perthshire, Carlyle wrote as follows to his
mother :

This letter may operate as a spur on the diligence of
my beloved and valuable correspondents at Mainhill.
There is a small blank made in the sheet for a purpose
which you will notice. I beg you to accept the little picture
which fills it without any murmuring. It is a poor testi-
monial of the grateful love I should ever bear you. I
hope to get a moderate command of money in the course
of my life's operations. I long for it chiefly that I may
testify to those dear to me what affection I entertain for
them. In the meantime we ought to be thankful that we
have never known what it was to be in fear of want, but
have always had wherewith to gratify one another by
these little acts of kindness, which are worth more than
millions unblest by a true feeling between the giver and
receiver. You must buy yourself any little odd things
you want, and think I enjoy it along with you, if it add
to your comfort. I do indeed enjoy it along with you. I
should be a dog if I did not. I am grateful to you for
kindness and true affection such as no other heart will
ever feel for me. I am proud of my mother, though she
is neither rich nor learned. If I ever forget to love and
reverence her, I must cease to be a creature myself worth
remembering. Often, my dear mother, in solitary, pensive
moments does it come across me like the cold shadow of

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 101

death that we two must part in the course of time. I
shudder at the thought, and find no refuge except in
humbly trusting that the great God will surely appoint us
a meeting in that far country to which we are tending.
May He bless you forever, my good mother, and keep
up in your heart those sublime hopes which at present
serve as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by
night to guide your footsteps through the wilderness of
life. We are in His hands. He will not utterly forsake
us. Let us trust in Him.

To John Carlyle, a few days later, he wrote:

Tell our mother I have a fire every night, and that all
things I want are supplied me abundantly.

To the mother, ever solicitous about his health,
did Carlyle write freely and fully, not only con-
cerning health, but regarding- all personal matters,
including his hopes and aspirations; at the same
time apologizing to his father for constantly com-
plaining of ill health:

To the latter he said:

I often grieve for the uneasiness my complaining costs
you and my dear mother, who is of feebler texture in
that respect than you. By this time she must be beginning
to understand me; to know that when I shout "murder"
I am not always being killed. The truth is, complaint is
the natural source of uneasiness, and I have none that
I care to complain to but you. After all I am not so
miserable as you would think. My health is better than

102 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

it was last year, but I have lost all patience with it; and
whenever any retrograde movement comes in view, I get
quite desperate in the matter, being determined that I
must get well — cost what it will. On days when moder-
ately well I feel as happy as others; happier perhaps, for
sweet is pleasure after pain.

Carlyle was now rapidly advancing in the liter-
ary world. He had read enormously in a wide
range of English, German, and French literature;
and was well fitted to put his knowledge to valuable
use. His "Life of Schiller" had been completed,
and his translation of "Wilhelm Meister," which
had been published, had brought him into favorable
notice.

He was at this time in London, with the Bullers,
and the family at Mainhill was deeply absorbed in
his first book. His translation of Goethe's novel
did not fail to meet with appreciation in this simple
Calvinistic home, which made no pretensions to lit-
erary criticism. Young and old alike read it, and
rejoiced in the achievement of the scholar of the
family — the mother, perhaps, giving it more time
and thought, her heart thrilling as she realized in
a measure the fulfillment of her long-cherished
hopes.

A letter from his brother John is of especial
interest :

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 103

Mainhill: June 24
You did well to send our father the neckerchief and
tobacco with the spluchian, for he was highly pleased at
the sight of them. The shawl our mother says, suits very
well, though she has no particular need of one at present.
She bids me tell you she can never repay you for the
kindness you have all along shown her, and that she has
advices about religion to give you, the best of gifts in her
estimation that she has to offer. She is sitting here as if
under some charm, reading "Meister," and has nearly got
through the second volume. Though we are often re-
peating Hall Foster's denouncement against readers of
"novels," she still continues to persevere. She does not
relish the character of the women, and especially of
Philnia : "They are so wanton." She can not well tell
what it is that interests her. I defer till the next time I
write you to give you a full account of the impression it
has made upon us all, for we have not got it fairly studied
yet. We are unanimous in thinking it should succeed.

To his mother, Carlyle wrote briefly:

"Meister," I understand, is doing very well. Jack tells
me you are reading "Meister." This surprises me. If I
did not recollect your love for me, I should not be able to
account for it.

And well might the much-loved son say to his
devoted mother "that her love was such as no other
heart would ever feel for him."

In after years, when all England was praising
Carlyle, and his fame had extended beyond the

io4 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

seas, no days were quite so precious in memory as
those days when he and his mother rode together
over the barren moors of old Scotland, smoking
their pipes, while she told him she had read through
"Wilhelm Meister," and the "French Revolution/'
and that if the depths of their meaning did not
quite come within the bounds of her understand-
ing, they were, nevertheless, grand books because
"her Tom" wrote them. For Carlyle this loyal de-
votion was "the one eternal spring in a life that had
much of Sahara in it!"

The connection with the Buller family was at
length severed, and Carlyle rejoiced in the free-
dom, which gave more time for literary pursuits,
in which he was now deeply engrossed.

Mrs. Carlyle's health, with advancing years, had
become impaired, and she in turn now received
admonitions for her own welfare ; most tenderly
and affectionately did Thomas write:

Birmingham : August 29, 1824
I must suggest some improvements in your diet and
mode of life which might be of service to you, who I know
too well have much to suffer on your own part, though
your affection renders you so exclusively anxious about
me. You will say that you cannot be fashed. Oh, my
mother, if you did but think of what value your health
and comfort are to us all, you would never talk so. Are
we not all bound to you by sacred and indissoluble ties?

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 105

Am I not so bound more than any other? Who was it
that nursed me and watched me in frowardness and sick-
ness from the earliest dawn of my existence to this hour?
My mother. Who is it that has struggled for me in pain
and sorrow with undespairing diligence, that has for me
been up early and down late, caring for me, laboring for
me, unweariedly assisting me? My mother. Who is the
one that never shrunk from me in my desolation, that
never tired of my despondencies, or shut up by a look or
tone of impatience, the expression of my real or imaginary
griefs? Who is that loves me and will love me forever
with an affection which no chance, no misery, no crime of
mine can do away? It is you, my mother.

When, in the fall of 1824, Carlyle unexpectedly
went for a short visit to Paris, the entire house-
hold was under severe restraint until a letter came
announcing his safe arrival. Nobody thought of
laughing or singing, and any sign of cheerfulness
was reproached by the mother as "lightness of
heart." At the close of the year, when he had re-
turned to London, he received the following letter:

Mainhill: December 18, 1824
Dear Son:

I take this opportunity to thank you for your unvarying

kindness, though I fear it will hardly be read. But never

mind: I know to whom I am writing. It is a long time

since we had a sight of each other ; nevertheless I am

often with you in thought, and I hope we shall meet at a

throne of grace where there is access to all who come in

io6 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

faith. Tell me if thou readest a chapter often. If not,
begin ; oh, do begin !

How do you spend the Sabbath in that tumultuous city?
Oh ! remember to keep it holy ; this you will never repent.
I think you will be saying, "Hold, mother !" but time is
short and uncertain. Now, Tom, the best of boys thou
art to me! Do not think I am melancholy, though I so
speak. I am quite well, and happy too when I hear from
London and Edinburgh. And pray do not let me want
food: as your father says, I look as if I would eat your
letters. Write everything and soon — I look for one every
fortnight till we meet. I grudge taking up the sheet, so I
bid thee good-night, and remain

Your affectionate mother

Margaret Carcyi,^
P. S. (By Alexander Carlyle.)

You are very wise, we seriously think, in determining
to live in the country, but how or where I do not pretend
to say; perhaps in some cottage, with a grass-park or cow
attached to it for the nonce, and our mother or Mag for
housekeeper. Or what say you of farming (marrying, I
dare not speak to you about it at all) ? There are plenty
of farms to let on all sides of the country. But tell me,
are the warm hearts of Mainhill changed? Or are they
less anxious to please? I guess not. Yet, after all, I
do often think that you would be as comfortable here as
anywhere.

Although not known to his family, matrimony
was, at this time, uppermost in Carlyle's mind. His
determination to make his home in the country, did

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 107

not, however, meet with approval by his fiancee,
the beautiful and cultured Jane Welsh. A farm
house, Hoddam Hill, two miles from Mainhill, was
nevertheless, secured, and the brothers at once pro-
ceeded to put in the crop, while the mother and
sisters made ready the dwelling. Mrs. Carlyle and
two of the little ones were to remain while Miss
Welsh came down for a visit.
Of this visit, Carlyle writes :

She stayed with us above a week, happy as was very
evident, and making happy. Her demeanor among us I
could define as unsurpassable, spontaneously perfect.
From the first moment all embarrassment, even my
mother's as tremulous and anxious as she naturally was,
fled away without return .... On the whole she came
to know us all, saw face to face us and the rugged peasant
element and the way of life we had; and was not afraid
of it, but recognized like her noble self, what of intrinsic
worth it might have, and what of real human dignity.

For a long while the mother of Jane Welsh re-
mained a decided barrier to the marriage, as on
account of Carlyle's moody and imperious tempera-
ment, she feared for the future happiness of her
daughter, who also possessed a decided will of her
own. And friends of the Welsh family, who moved
in an entirely different circle from that of the Car-
lyles, looked upon the match as a decided
mesalliance.

108 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Mrs. Carlyle kept her opinion quietly to herself,
though her attitude toward the young couple was
plainly shown in a letter from her son to Jane
Welsh:

My mother's prayers (to speak with all seriousness) are,
I do believe, not wanting either to you or to me, and if
the sincere wishes of a true soul can have any virtue, we
shall not want a blessing. She bids me send you the
kindest message I can contrive, which I send by itself
without contrivance. She says she will have one good
greet when we set off, and then be at peace.

The marriage took place on October 17, 1826,
and for a time Carlyle was happier than he had
ever been, though ill-health and its accompanying
moods were still his frequent condition, and the
wife, patient and gentle, found him, as his mother
had long since described him, "ill to live with,"

A difference with the landlord had caused the
stay at Hoddam Hill to come to an end ; while the
lease at Mainhill, expiring about the same time,
the family moved to Scotsbrig, a farm near
Ecclefechan, and here the father and mother spent
the remainder of their lives.

After their arrival at Comely Bank, Carlyle
wrote his mother:

I am still dreadfully confused, I am still far from being
at home in my new situation, but I have reason to say

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 109

that I have been mercifully dealt with ; and if an outward
man worn with continual harassments and spirits wasted
with so many agitations would let me see it, that I may
fairly calculate on being far happier than I have ever
been. The house is a perfect model furnished with every
accommodation that heart could desire; and for my wife,
I may say in my heart that she is far better than any wife
and loves me with a devotedness which it is a mystery to
me how I have ever deserved. She is gay and happy as
a lark, and looks with such soft cheerfulness into my
gloomy countenance, that new hope passed into me every
time I met her eye. In truth, I was very sullen yesterday,
sick with sleeplessness, nervous, bilious, splenetic, and all
the rest of it."

Carlyle had permitted himself to complain much
in early life, and in maturer years the habit was
too fast upon him to be easily gotten rid of. But
to fret before a mother is one thing, and before a
wife, quite another; and though the Carlyles were
in a measure happy, their happiness was greatly
marred by uncongeniality of temperament.

In a letter to his brother John, he said:

I am all in a maze scarcely knowing the right hand from
the left in the path I have to walk .... Tell my mother,
however, that I do believe I shall get hefted to my new
situation, and then be one of the happiest men alive. Tell
her also that by Jane's express request I am to read a
sermon and a chapter with a commentary at least every
Sabbath day, to my household; also that we are taking

no MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

seats in church, and design to live soberly and devoutly
as beseems us.

And again to his mother:

Comely Bank: January 2, 1827
My Dear Mother :

At length Tait (the publisher) has given me an oppor-
tunity of sending off the weary book, and along with it a
word or two to assure you of my welfare. The "German
Romance" I have inscribed to my father, though I know
he will not read a line of it. From you, however, I hope
better things ; at any rate, I have sent you a book which
I am sure you will read, because it relates to a really good
man, and one engaged in a life which all men must reckon
good. You must accept this "Life of Henry Martyn" as
a New Year's gift from me; and while reading it believe
that your son is a kind of a missionary in his way — not
to the heathen of India, but to the British heathen, an
innumerable class whom he would gladly do something
to convert if his perplexities and manifold infirmities
would give him leave .... We must wait patiently and
study to do what service we can, not despising the day of
small things, but meekly trusting that hereafter it may be
the day of greater. I am beginning to be very instant for
some sort of occupation, which indeed, is my chief want
at present. I must stir the waters and see what is to be
done. Many, many plans I have, but few of them, I doubt,
are likely to prove acceptable at present ; the times are so
bad, and bookselling trade so dull. Something, however,
I will fix upon, for work is as essential to me as meat and
drink. Of money we are not in want. The other morn-

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN in

ing Mrs. Welsh sent us a letter with sixty pounds en-
closed, fearing lest cleanness of teeth might be ready to
overtake us. I thought it extremely kind and handsome;
but we returned the cash with many thanks, wishing to
fight our own battles at least until the season of need
arrive. I have not said a word yet about your kind Scots-
brig package. It was all right and in order, only that a
few of the eggs (the box not being completely stuffed
firm), had suffered by the carriage. Most part of them
Jane has already converted into custards, pancakes, or the
other like ware; the other I am eating and find excellent.
A woman comes here weekly with a fresh stock to us, and
I eat just one daily, the price being I5d. per dozen.

Now, my dear mother, you must make Alick write to
me, and tell me all that is going on with himself or you.
Wish all hands a happy new year in my name, and assure
them all, one by one, that I will love them truly all my
days.

There came, also, at this time, an appreciative
letter from Jane Carlyle, in gratitude to Mrs.
Carlyle for her many acts of kindness in providing
for their temporal needs from her own limited
store.

During the summer of 1827, Carlyle sent to
Goethe a copy of his "Life of Schiller," and also
the "German Romance."

In a short while, grateful acknowledgment was
received, and Carlyle wrote joyfully to his mother:

ii2 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Comely Bank: August 18
News came directly after breakfast that a package from
Goethe had arrived in Leith. Without delay I proceeded
thither, and found a little box carefully overlapped in wax
cloth, and directed to me. After infinite wranglings and
perplexed misdirected higglings, I succeeded in rescuing
the precious packet from the fangs of the Custom-house
sharks, and in the afternoon it was safely deposited in our
little parlor — in the daintiest boxie you ever saw — so care-
fully packed, so neatly and tastefully contrived was every-
thing. There was a copy of Goethe's poems in five beau-
tiful little volumes for "the valued marriage pair Car-
lyle"; two other little books for myself, then two medals,
one of Goethe himself, and another of his father and
mother; and lastly, the prettiest wrought-iron necklace
with a little figure of the poet's face set in gold for my
dear spouse, and a most dashing pocketbook for me. In
the box containing the necklace, and in each pocket of the
pocket-book were cards, each with a verse of poetry on
it in the old master's own hand.

All these I will translate to you by-and-by as well as the
long letter which lay at the bottom of all — one of the
kindest and gravest epistles I ever read. He praises me
for the "Life of Schiller" and the others; asks me to send
him some account of my own previous history, etc. In
short, it was all extremely graceful, affectionate, and
patriarchal. You may conceive how much it pleased us.
I believe a ribbon with the Order of the Garter would
scarcely have flattered either of us more.

Mrs. Carlyle was indeed thrilled with joy at this
recognition of her son's literary gifts, but deemed

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 113

it nothing more than just that he should be held
among Britain's greatest writers. She had always
believed in him, and expected him to make a name
for himself, and never doubted that he would come
up to her expectations.

From time to time, visits were exchanged by the
families at Scotsbrig and Comely Bank, for as Car-
lyle had said, they were "a clannish set."

After a visit from his mother, he wrote to one of
his brothers, as follows :

My mother stayed about four weeks, then went home by
Hawick, pausing a few days there. She was in her usual
health, wondered much at Edinburgh, but did not seem to
relish it excessively. I had her at the pier of Leith and
showed her where your ship vanished, and she looked over
the blue waters eastward with wettish eyes, and asked the
dumb waters "when he would be back again." Good
mother ! but the time of her departure came on, and she
left us stupefied by the magnitude of such an enterprise
as riding over eighty miles in the Sir Walter Scott with-
out jumping out of the window, which I told her was the
problem. Dear mother! let us thank God that she is still
here in earth spared for us, and I hope to see good. I
would not exchange her for any ten mothers I have ever
seen.

In the late spring of the year 1828, Thomas Car-
lyle and his wife went to live at Craigenputtock,

ii4 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

where amid the cheerless moors of Dumfriesshire
they were for the next seven years to lead a lonely
existence.

Two years later came the first break in the
family, in the death of the much beloved eldest
daughter, Margaret. Of her last moments, Carlyle
wrote to an absent brother:

Our mother asked her in the afternoon if she thought
herself dying. She answered "I dinna ken, mother, but I
never was so sick in my life."

To a subsequent question about her hopes of a future
world she replied briefly, but in terms that were com-
fortable to her parents .... Our mother begged her
forgiveness if she had ever done her anything wrong; to
which the dying one answered, "Oh, no, no, mother, never,
never," earnestly, yet quietly, and without tears, ....
Our mother behaved in what I must call an heroic man-
ner. Seeing that the hour was now come, she cast her-
self and her child on God's hand, and endeavored heartily
to say, "His will be done." Since then she has been calmer
than any of us could have hoped — almost the calmest of
us.

Several of her children were now living away
from home, and Mrs. Carlyle could not conceal the
anxiety that she felt for the welfare of the absent
ones. One of the sisters wrote to Carlyle at this
time:

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 115

Our mother has been healthier than usual this winter,
but terribly hadden down in anxiety. She told me the
other day the first gaet she gaed every morning was to
London, then to Italy, then to Craigenputtock, and then
to Mary's, and finally began to think them at home were
maybe no safer, no safer than the rest. When I asked
what she wished to say to you, she said she had a thou-
sand things to say if she had you here ; "and thou may
tell them, I am very little fra' them." You are to pray
for us all daily, while separated from one another, that
our ways be in God's keeping.

You are also to tell the doctor (John) when you write,
with her love, that he is to read his Bible carefully, and
not to forget that God sees him in whatsoever land he
may be.

In January, 1832, there came a letter from his
sister Jean, bringing the news of his father's
death, after a brief illness. The mother added but
a single line to the daughter's words :

It is God that has done it ; be still my dear children.

Your affectionate Mother.

Unable to attend the funeral, Carlyle composed
the memoir which appears in his "Reminiscences."
As the eldest son, he now felt the responsibility
which rested upon him as the head of the family.

To his mother he wrote :

n6 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

London: January 26, 1832
My Dear Mother:

I was downstairs this morning when I heard the post-
man's knock, and thought it might be a letter from Scots-
brig. Hastening up I found Jane with the letter open and
in tears. The next moment gave me the stern tidings. I
had written you yesterday a light, hopeful letter which I
could now wish you might not read in these days of dark-
ness. Probably you will receive it just along with this;
the first red seal so soon to be exchanged for a black one.
As yet I am in no condition to write much. The stroke all
unexpected though not undreaded, as yet painfully crushes
my heart altogether. I have yet hardly a little relief from
tears. And yet it will be a solace to me to speak out with
you, to repeat along with you that great saying which,
could we rightly lay it to heart, includes all that man
can say, "It is God that has done it." God supports us
all. .Yes my dear mother, it is God has done it; and our
part is reverent submission to His will, and truthful
prayers to Him for strength to bear us through every
trial .... Neither are you my beloved mother, to let
your heart be heavy. Faithfully you toiled by his side
.... And now, do you pray for us all, and let us all pray
in such language as we have for one another, so shall this
sore division and parting be the means of closer union.
Let us and every one know that, though this world is full
of briers, and we are wounded at every step as we go,
and one by one must take farewell and weep bitterly, yet
"there remaineth a rest for the people of God." Yes, for
the people of God there remaineth a rest, that rest which
in the world they could nowhere find. And now again I

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 117

say, do not grieve any one of you beyond what nature
forces and you can not help. Pray to God, if any of you
have a voice and uterance; all of you pray always, in
secret and silence — if faithful, ye shall be heard openly. I
cannot be with you to speak, but read in the Scriptures as
I would have done. Read, I especially ask, in Matthew's
gospel, that passion, and death, and farewell blessing and
command of Jesus of Nazareth ; and see if you can under-
stand and feel what is the "divine depth of sorrow," and
how even by suffering and sin man is lifted up to God,
and in great darkness there shines a light. If you cannot
read it aloud in common, then do each of you take his
Bible in private and read it for himself. Our business is
not to lament, but to improve the lamentable, and make
it also peaceably work together for greater good.

Much more did he write, in an affectionate and
tender manner, giving the same comfort that his
mother in turn would have given him; and reflect-
ing in his words, her teachings.

The memoir of his father referred to his many
virtues. Very noteworthy are two characteristics
mentioned — "he never spoke of what was disagree-
able and past," and "his placid indifference to the
clamors or the murmurs of public opinion." "I
have a sacred pride," said Carlyle, "in my peasant
father, and would not exchange him now for any
king known to me."

n8 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

To Mrs. Carlyle there continued to come long
affectionate letters from her son, Thomas. He
was struggling on in his literary efforts, with
ofttimes scarce a pound to his credit. A few of
his books and essays met with appreciation from
the public, but some books, afterwards to rank
among the world's best literature, were returned
to him by the publishers with a polite refusal to
publish. "Sartor Resartus" came under this head,
and his disappointment was keen. To his mother
he wrote :

Little money I think will be had for my work, but I will
have it printed if there be a man in London that will do
it, even without payment to myself. If there be no such
man, why then, what is to be done but tie a piece of good
skeenyie about my papers, stick the whole in my pocket
and march home again with it ; where at least potatoes
and onions are to be had, and I can wait till better times.
. . . . The Giver of all Good has enabled me to write the
thing, and also to do without any pay for it: the pay
would have been wasted away and flitted out of the bit
as other pay does ; but if there stands any truth recorded
there, it will not flit.

And he was right — how many thousands have
read "Sartor Resartus" since that day, and the
truth recorded there, it "will not flit."

In 1833, the young writer, Emerson, came across
the Atlantic, and visited Carlyle for a brief time

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 119

in the moorland home. To his mother, Carlyle
wrote that the young man "seemed to be one of
the most lovable creatures in himself we had ever
looked on. He stayed till next day with us, and
talked and heard talk to his heart's content."

Mrs. Carlyle's strong faith in God and in the
wisdom of His ways, was exemplified at the time
Carlyle had decided to commence writing "The
French Revolution," and had been bitterly disap-
pointed in failing to secure a professorship that
would have given him ample means with which to
go later to Paris for study and research. The
Lord-Advocate Jeffrey had ignored a hint that he
would like the professorship ; and Carlyle could not
repress his bitter disappointment. "He canna
hinder thee of God's providence," said his mother;
which Carlyle agreed, later on, "was a glorious
truth."

To his brother John, he expressed his deter-
mination to find success in London, and if not there,
to go to America :

I must work and seek work; before . sinking utterly I

will make an a-fir struggle Our dear mother has

not heard of this. It will be a heavy stroke, yet not quite
unanticipated, and she will brave it. Go whither she may,
she will have her Bible with her, and her faith in God.

120 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

She is the truest Christian believer I have ever met with;
nay, I might almost say, the only one.

She came to visit Thomas and his wife just
before they departed to take up their residence in
London, and he says, "she shed no tears, but I
felt it so sore as I have felt nothing of the sort
since boyhood."

In December, there came to him the following
cheering lines:

December 15th, 1835
Dear Son:

I need not say how glad I was to see your hand once
more. It had been lying at the postoffice for some time, I
think, for I had got the Annan ones the day before, which
I think must have been sent later than it. They were all
thrice welcome.

I am glad to hear you are getting on with your book, in
spite of all the difficulties you have had to struggle with,
which have been many. I need not say, for you know
already, I wish it a happy and long life. Keep a good
heart. May God give us all grace to stay our hearts on
Him who has said in His word, "He will keep them in
perfect peace whose minds are stayed on Him, because
they trust in Him."

"Wait on the Lord and be thou strong,

And He will strength afford
Unto thy heart: yea, do thou wait,
I say upon the Lord.

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 121

"What time my heart is overwhelmed
And in perplexity,
Do thou me lead unto the Rock
That higher is than I."

Let us not be careful what the world thinks of us, if we
can say with a good conscience, with Toplady:

"Careless, myself a dying man,

Of dying men's esteem;
Happy, oh Lord, if thou approve,
Though all beside condemn."

You will say, I know all these things. "But they are
sooner said than done."
Be of courage, my dear son, and seek God for your

guide I will be glad to see you both here to rest

awhile when the fight is over.

There perhaps never was a greater scrawl. Wink at it.
God bless you, my dear children.

Your affectionate mother

Margaret A. CarlylE

Some friends having arranged for him a course
of lectures — three days before appearing in this new
role, he wrote:

I lie quiet and have the greatest appetite in the world to
do nothing at all. On Monday at three o'clock comes my
first lecture, but I mean to take it as coolly as possible.
It is neither death nor men's lives, whether I speak well or
speak ill, or do nothing but gasp. One of my friends was
inquiring about it lately. I told him some days ago I
could speak abundantly and cared nothing about it. At

122 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

other times 1 felt as if when Monday came the natural
speech for me would be this : "Good Christians, it has
become entirely impossible for me to talk to you about
German or any literature or terrestrial thing; one request
only I have to make, that you would be kind enough to
cover me under a tub for the next six weeks and go your
ways with all my blessing." This were a result well worth
remarking; but it is not likely to be this. On the whole,
dear mother, fear nothing. One great blessing is that in
three weeks it must be done one way or another. It will
be over then, and all well.

The lectures, it may be said, went off well, and
brought in a small but very welcome sum to the
poverty-stricken author. Shortly afterwards, he
betook himself to Scotsbrig, where was spent a
peaceful two-months with his mother. Together
they smoked their pipes in the garden, and enjoyed
thoroughly the brief holiday.

Carlyle had passed through years of toil, dis-
couragement, and hardship, but the tide had now
turned, and at the age of forty-two, he was
accounted a great writer. The "French. Revolu-
tion" had been published, and sold well, meeting
with much favor.

From Scotsbrig he wrote to John Carlyle:

Our good mother keeps very well here. She and I have
been out once or twice for two hours, helping Jamie with
his hay. She is "waul as an eel" while working. She

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 123

cooks our little meal, which we eat peaceably together.
She mends clothes, bakes scones, is very fond of news-
papers, especially Radical ones, and stands up for the
rights of man. She has toiled on into near the end of the
second volume of the "French Revolution,"- not without
considerable understanding of it, though the French names
are a sad clog. She will make it out pretty completely by
and by.

Through Emerson's influence, the "French
Revolution" and "Sartor Resartus" were published
in America, and Carlyle received one hundred and
fifty pounds as the proceeds before one penny came
from England. Of the first fifty pounds, he sent
five to his mother, "off the fore end of it. The
kitten ought to bring the auld cat a mouse in such
a case as that — an American mouse."

Years passed by, bringing to Mrs. Carlyle much
reason for pride in her favorite son's established
literary reputation, and strengthening the bonds of
affectionate comradeship which had existed be-
tween them since his youth.

The year 1853 found her health to be failing
rapidly. On December 4 came his last letter to
her:

It is this day gone fifty-eight years that I was born.
.... I am now myself grown old, and have had various
things to do and suffer for so many years ; but there is
nothing I ever had to be so much thankful for as the

i24 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

mother I had. That is a truth which I know well, and
perhaps this day again it may be some comfort to you.
Yes, surely, for if there has been any good in the things
I have uttered in the world's hearing, it was your voice
essentially that was speaking through me ; essentially what
you and my brave father meant and taught me to mean,
this was the purport of all I spoke and wrote. And if in
the few years that remain to me I am to get any more
written for the world, the essence of it, so far as it is
worthy and good, will still be yours.

May God reward you, dearest mother, for all you have
done for me! I never can. Ah no! but will think of it
with gratitude and pious love as long as I have the power
of thinking.

The end was even nearer than he dreamed. The
dear mother, whose tender ministrations, wise
counsel, and cheering words had meant more to
him than language could express, had more than
rounded out her fourscore years, and was verging
on the close of her earthly pilgrimage.

From the journal of Thomas Carlyle is taken
this record of her last moments :

January 8, 1854: The stroke has fallen. My dear
mother is gone from me, and in the winter of the year,
confusedly under darkness of weather and of mind, the
stern final epoch — epoch of old age — is beginning to un-
fold itself for me. I had gone to the Grange with Jane,
not very willingly; was sadly in worthless solitude for
most part passing my Christmas season there. The news

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 125

from Scotsbrig had long been bad; extreme weakness, for
there was no disease, threatening continually for many
months past to reach its term. What to do I knew not.
At length shaking aside my sick languor and wretched
uncertainty I perceived plainly that I ought not to be there
— but I ought to go to Scotsbrig at all risks straightway.
This was on Tuesday, December 20; on Wednesday I came
home; on Thursday evening set off northward by the
express train. The night's travel, Carlisle for the three-
quarters of an hour I waited, Kirtlebridge at last, and my
anxieties in the walk to Scotsbrig; these things I shall
not forget. It is a matter of perennial thankfulness to me,
and beyond my desert in that matter very far, that I found
my dear old mother still alive; able to recognize me with a
faint joy, her former self still strangely visible there in
all its lineaments, though worn to the uttermost thread.
The brave old mother and the good, whom to lose had been
my fear ever since intelligence awoke in me in this world,
arrived now at the final bourne.

Never shall I forget her wearied eyes that morning,
looking out gently into the wintry daylight; every instant
falling together in sleep and then opening again. She had
in general the most perfect clearness of intellect, courage-
ous composure, affectionate patience, complete presence of
mind.

Dark clouds of physical suffering, etc., did from time to
time eclipse and confuse ; but the steady light, gone now
to the size of a star, as it had been a sun, came always out
victorious again. At night on that Friday she had for-
gotten me, "Knew me only since the morning." I went
into the other room; in a few minutes she sent for me to

126 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

say she did now remember it all, and knew her son
Tom as of old. "Tell us how thou sleeps," she said, when
I took leave about midnight. "Sleeps !" Alas ; she herself
had lain in a sleep of death for sixteen hours, till that very
morning at six, when I was on the road! That was the
third of such sleeps or half- faints lasting for fifteen or
sixteen hours. Jane saw the first of them in August. On
Saturday, if I recollect, her sense in general seemed clear,
though her look of weakness was greater than ever.
Brother Jamie and I had gone out to walk in the after-
noon. Returning about dusk we found her suffering
greatly; want of breath, owing to weakness. What passed
from that time till midnight will never efface itself, and
need not be written here. I never saw a mind more clear
and present, though worn down now to the uttermost and
smiling in the dark floods. My good, veracious, affection-
ate, and brave old mother!

I keep one or two incidents and all the perplexed image
of that night to myself, as something very precious,
singular, and sternly sacred to me; beautiful too in its
valiant simple worth, and touching as what else could be
to me?

About eleven my brother John ventured on half a dose
of laudanum, the pain of breathing growing ever worse
otherwise. Relief perceptible in consequence, we sent my
sister Jean to bed — who had watched for nights and
months, relieved only by John at intervals. I came into
the room where John was now watching. "Here is Tom
come to bid you good night, mother," said he. She smiled
assent, took leave of me as usual. As I turned to go she
said, "I'm muckle obleeged t'ye." Those were her last

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 127

voluntary words in this world. After that she spoke no
more — slept even deeper. Her sleep lasted about sixteen
hours. She lay on her back, stirred no muscle. The face
was that of a statue with slight changes of expression.
"Infinite astonishment" was what one might have fancied
to read on it at one time; the breathing not very hard or
quick, yet evidently difficult, and not changing sensibly in
character, till 4 p. m., when it suddenly fell lower, paused,
again paused, perhaps still again; and our good and dear
old mother was gone from her sorrows and from us. I
did not weep much, or at all, except for moments ; but the
sight too, and the look backwards and forwards, was one
that a far harder heart might have melted under. Fare-
well, farewell !

She was about eighty-four years of age, and could not
with advantage to any side remain with us longer. Surely
it was a good Power that gave us such a mother ; and good
though stern that took her away from amid such grief
and labor by a death beautiful to one's thoughts.

"All the days of my appointed time will I wait till my
change come." This they often heard her muttering, and
many other less frequent pious texts and passages. Amen,
Amen!

Sunday, December 25th, 1853 — a day henceforth forever
memorable to me. The funeral was on Thursday. Intense
frost had come on Monday night. I lingered about Scots-
brig, wandering silently in the bright hard silent mornings
and afternoons, waiting till all small temporal matters were
settled — which they decently were.

On Monday morning I went — cold as Siberia, yet a
bright sun shining; had a painful journey, rapid as a

128 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

comet, but with neither food nor warmth attainable till
after midnight, when my sad pilgrimage ended.

Since then I have been very languidly sorting rubbish,
very languid, sad, and useless every way. It can not be
said that I have yet learned this severe lesson I have got.
I must try to learn it more and more or it will not pass
from me. To live for the shorter or longer remainder of
my days with the simple bravery, veracity, and piety, of
her that is gone; that would be a right learning from her
death, and a right honoring of her memory. But alas ! all
is yet frozen within me ; even as it is without me at present,
and I have made little or no way. God be helpful to me !
I myself am very weak, confused, fatigued, entangled in
poor worldiness too. Newspaper paragraphs, even as this
sacred and peculiar thing, are not indifferent to me. Weak
soul ! and I am fifty-eight years old, and the tasks I have
on hand, Frederick, etc., are most ungainly, incongruous
with my mood — and the night cometh, for me too is not
distant, which for her is come. I must try, I must try.

Writing to a friend, he said:

I got here in time to be recognized, to be cheered with
the sacred beauty of a devout and valiant soul's departure.
God make me thankful for such a mother. God. enable me
to live more worthily of her in the years I may still have
left.

To his brother John, he wrote:

My labor is miserably languid, the heart within me is
low and sad. I have kept quite alone, seen nobody at all.
I think of our dear mother with a kind of mournful

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 129

blessedness. Her life was true, simple, generous, brave;
her end with the last sad traces of these qualities still
visible in it, was very beautiful if very sad to us. I would
not for much want those two stern days at Scotsbrig from
my memory. They lie consecrated there as if baptized in
sorrow with the greatness of eternity in them.

And again:

My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, all hung with black
in general. I hold my peace in general and accept the
decrees of Heaven, still hoping that some useful labor may
again be possible for me here, which is the one consola-
tion I can conceive at present.

The passing weeks found Carlyle "professing to
work ; making no headway at all." Grief had seized
upon him; and his mother was constantly in his
thoughts.

His journal, February 28, 1854, records the
following :

Sunday morning last there came into my mind a vision
of the old Sunday mornings I had seen at Mainhill, etc.
Poor old mother, father, and the rest of us bustling about
to get dressed in time and down to the meeting-house at
Ecclefechan.

Inexpressibly sad to me and full of meaning. They are
gone now, vanished all; their poor bits of thrifty clothes,
more precious to me than Queen's or King's expensive
trappings, their pious effort, their "little life," it is all
away. So with all things. Nature and this big universe

i3o MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

in all corners of it show nothing else. Time ! Death ! All-
devouring Time ! This thought, "Exeunt omnes," and how
the generations are like crops of grass, temporary, very,
and all vanishes, as it were an apparition and a ghost;
these things, though half a century old in me, possess my

mind as they never did before My mother! my

good heavy-laden dear and brave and now lost mother !
The thought that I shall never see her more with these
eyes gives a strange painful flash into me many times when
I look at that portrait I have of her. "Like Ulysses,"
as I say, I converse with the shade of my mother, and
sink out of all company and light common talk into that

grand element of sorrow and eternal stillness Oh

pious mother ! kind, good, brave, and truthful soul as I
have ever found, and more than I have ever elsewhere
found in this world, your poor Tom, long out of his
schooldays now, has fallen very lonely, very lame and
broken in this pilgrimage of his; and you can not help
him or cheer him by a kind word any more.

From your grave in Ecclefechan kirkyard yonder you
bid him trust in God, and that also he will try if he can
understand, and do. The conquest of the world and of
death and hell does verily yet lie in that, if one can under-
stand and do it.

IV

SUSANNA ANNESLEY
WESLEY

MOTHER OF
JOHN AND CHARLES WESLEY

IN truth may it be said, "Susanna Wesley's hand
rings all the Methodist church bells around the
globe today" ; for it was the mother of John and
Charles Wesley who inspired and stimulated the
movement which resulted in worldwide Metho-
dism.

Susanna Annesley, the daughter of Dr. Samuel
Annesley, was born in the latter part of the seven-
teenth century, and came of noble lineage, being,
on her paternal side, of the house of the Earl of
Anglesea.

In his young manhood, Samuel Annesley won
many honors at Oxford and in later life served
as chaplain at sea, and as pastor of two of the
largest congregations in London.

For centuries the religious history of England
had been a story of bitter conflict and unrest —

132 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Independent and Prelatist, Protestant and
Romanist, met in 'a continual struggle for suprem-
acy; and in behalf of the church, England's fame
had ofttimes been besmirched by deeds of darkest
violence. It was during the crucial period of this
prolonged season of religious controversy that Dr.
Annesley's life was passed. Refusing to conform
to the Established Church of England, he became
a dissenting clergyman; and after taking this bold
step, suffered, during the remaining thirty years
of his life, manifold hardships as the penalty for
adherence to his convictions.

Susanna Annesley inherited from her father
striking personal attractiveness, as well as great
activity of mind, combined with unusual strength
of character. Among marked characteristics
evidenced in early childhood was especially por-
trayed an unswerving obedience to the dictates of
conscience, which was so strongly emphasized in
the character of her father. When Susanna had
scarcely reached the age of thirteen years, after
having made a diligent study of the fierce contro-
versy then being waged between the Church and
the Dissenters, she calmly and deliberately
announced herself as upholding the cause of the
Church. To Dr. Annesley, it was a severe and
unexpected blow to discover that the pronounced

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 133

opinions which he sustained were rejected in his
own household. Recognizing, however, in his
young daughter a piety and strength of character
unusual for one of her years, Dr. Annesley stifled
his regret at her decision, and exhibited toward
Susanna the same strong affection which he had
always bestowed upon her. He realized that she
had studied carefully the questions which were
disturbing older heads, and that her convictions
were the results of calm deliberation and unbiased
thought; so deemed it only right that she should
be permitted to hold her own opinion even in
regard to such weighty matters.

Thus Susanna's girlhood merged into woman-
hood, and she grew in strength of intellect, wideness
of knowledge, and self-reliance; all problems that
confronted her were reasoned out alone, and, after
diligent study and due deliberation, she accepted
only that which to her mind seemed unquestionably
true and right. She received an excellent educa-
tion; and from her letters, and the record of those
who knew her intimately, it is not surprising that
she has been adjudged in many respects the peer
of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, the foremost
woman in England at that period.

The personal beauty of Susanna Wesley has been
the subject of much comment. A portrait, painted

i34 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

at the age of twenty-five, shows a face of rare
loveliness and intellectuality. This charm of
countenance was enhanced by rich gifts of intellect
and Christian graces, throughout a long life of
more than three score years and ten.

It was while living in London, that Susanna
Annesley, at the age of twenty, became the wife of
Samuel Wesley. The father and grandfather of
young Samuel Wesley were both clergymen of
strong convictions, and by adhering to certain be-
liefs unconformable to the Church, suffered in con-
sequence persecution and imprisonment.

It had been the intention of Samuel Wesley to
become a dissenting clergyman, but rather than
approve the beheading of Charles I., he returned
to the Established Church. Acting as tutor, he
worked his way through College at Oxford, and
while there began the work of visiting prisoners
and the needy poor.

For a while after their marriage, the Wesleys
resided in London, where Samuel Wesley held the
positions, first, of curate; and afterward served as
chaplain in the Fleet. The family, which numbered
at that time six children, later removed to
Epworth, a rural village of Lincolnshire, which
possessed little charm of surroundings. Here, in
the Epworth parsonage, built one hundred years

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 135

before, dwelt this interesting family; and here
Susanna Wesley reared her nineteen children.
Beneath the thatched roof of the parsonage were
three large chambers — a parlor, hall, "buttery," and
a few small rooms. And in these limited quarters
the young Wesleys dwelt in apparent contentment,
never showing dissatisfaction that fortune had not
favored them more. Over all the home the mother
reigned supreme, with the exception of the study,
which was to the father a "holy of holies," a
sanctum not to be disturbed. In the seclusion of
his little domain, Samuel Wesley studied, and
wrote sermons; and when free from pastoral
duties, spent many hours occupied in his favorite
pastime — writing essays and dissertations on varied
subjects of a religious nature. Among his best
works was a Latin dissertation on the book of Job.
Although a man of wide learning, with a deep
passion for rhyming, and gifted with a prolific pen,
Samuel Wesley's writings did not gain for him
either reputation or remuneration. Before their
removal to Epworth, the family income had been
only fifty pounds per annum; but even with this
slender amount Susanna Wesley had managed
affairs so judiciously that the family, consisting at
that time of eight, lived in comfort, if not in
luxury. At Epworth, the salary of Samuel Wesley

136 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

amounted to two hundred pounds, which, although
not a large sum, was nevertheless a very desirable
increase of funds for expenditure in the family,
which gradually grew until nineteen young Wesleys
clustered beneath the parsonage roof.

In her home, Susanna Wesley was the pivot about
which all else revolved; and here she reigned with
gentle and undisputed sway. Truly no queen did
ever rule more wisely or more conscientiously than
did this mother over her little kingdom. Burdened
continually with the multitudinous cares incidental
to the household of a poor country clergyman,
Susanna Wesley met every phase of life calmly and
wisely, giving personal supervision to all family
affairs and housekeeping duties ; and managing the
disposition of a very limited income with marked
business ability and judgment.

At this time, imprisonment for debt was a com-
mon punishment in England. On one occasion,
Samuel Wesley was unable to meet the demand for
payment of a small debt he had incurred, and was
imprisoned for the period of three months. Deem-
ing it his duty to help his fellow-man under all cir-
cumstances, he acted as chaplain to the other prison-
ers. During his incarceration, Wesley was greatly
sustained by the fortitude of his wife, on whom
alone the responsibility of providing for her large

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 137

family rested during this period of financial dis-
aster. She even sent to him her rings, that some
small personal comforts might be purchased, but
he returned them, preferring to deny himself rather
than deprive her of the few trinkets which she
possessed.

The married life of the Wesleys was happy and
peaceful, with the exception of one occurrence,
when their strong wills clashed, thereby causing
temporary estrangement. One evening when
Samuel Wesley read, as usual, prayers for the king,
William III., Susanna did not respond with the
customary "Amen." Her husband inquired the
reason, and received the reply that she "did not
consider that William had the right to be king, and
in accordance with this belief she would refuse to
acknowledge him." An argument of much warmth
followed; and, finding Susanna to be as unchange-
able in her opinion as he in his, Samuel departed
from home. A year passed by, and there came the
death of William, and the accession to the throne
of Anne. With the reign of a sovereign whom
both were willing to acknowledge, reconciliation
and reunion were restored in the Wesley home.
This incident, which is recorded by their son, John
Wesley, is strongly illustrative of the unbending
will of both parents.

138 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

In the care and training of her children, Susanna
Wesley was most painstaking. The rearing of the
little Wesleys, from earliest babyhood, was exceed-
ingly "methodical," as she herself expressed it.
The first months of a child's life she deemed should'
be passed for the most part in sleeping; then the
time should be gradually reduced until sleep during
the daytime was not needed. At the age of one
year the infant was taught to "cry softly" ; and in
regard to this method of instruction the young
Wesleys must have been apt pupils, since it is said
the sound of crying rarely disturbed the peaceful
atmosphere of this model home. Rules as to sys-
tematic living were regularly enforced, and the
daily routine moved on like clockwork. Eating and
drinking between meals was forbidden, except in
case of illness ; promptly at eight o'clock each
evening, all the children retired, unattended, except
the very youngest. At prayers and during grace
they were taught the utmost reverence, even when
too tiny to kneel or speak. No study was allowed
to tax the young brain until the child had reached
five years of age; at that time the youthful scholar
entered upon the elementary tasks of acquiring an
education. Alone together in a room free from
disturbance, the mother and child spent the first
day of school life, mastering the alphabet. Three

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 139

hours in the morning and three in the afternoon
were allotted to this difficult task; and, of the
entire family, it is said that only two children
required as much time as a day and a half. The
next task to be accomplished was to read and spell
perfectly a chapter in Genesis, which doubtless was
not mastered in so brief a time. This was the in-
troduction of the Wesley children into the world
of letters; and thus were the habits of the student
fixed in early life. So patient and painstaking was
the mother that no amount of time was spared to
make plain some difficult passage or problem. It
is told that on one occasion Mrs. Wesley went over
and over again with John some portion of a lesson
which it seemed impossible for him to understand.
The father, sitting near-by, became irritated at the
apparent stupidity of the child, and exclaimed,
"Susanna, why do you tell that lad the same thing
for the hundredth time?" "Because," was the calm
reply, "the ninety-ninth time he did not under-
stand."

At an early age, also, was the religious training
of the Wesleys begun; and most earnestly and
zealously were they instructed in the ways of
Christian living. When about thirty years of age,
Susanna Wesley, realizing that she was giving too
little time to her devotional exercises, decided to

140 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

spend an hour each morning and each evening in
the study of the Bible and in prayer. It doubtless
meant a great sacrifice on the part of the busy
housewife and mother, with multitudinous duties
and constant demands upon her time, to set apart
daily two hours for devotional exercises; but she
did so, and there is no evidence that other duties
were neglected. This example of piety must have
exerted great influence over the lives of her chil-
dren, who looked up to the mother with an affection
little short of adoration.

That one woman could have accomplished all
that has been accredited to Susanna Wesley, seems
indeed remarkable. She employed system with re-
gard to all duties, and gave personal attention to
the minute details of household affairs. It has been
authentically stated that in the government of her
well-ordered home "she never lost her temper, nor
once was forced to chastise any member of her
family."

Observing the trend of intellect and varied dis-
positions of her children, she sought to understand
thoroughly the temperament and individuality of
each one. In one of her letters, there is evidenced
the deep interest which was taken in the develop-
ment of each child's mind: "I discuss every night
with each child by itself, on something that relates

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 141

to its principal concerns. On Monday I talk with
Molly; on Tuesday with Hetty; Wednesday with
Nancy; Thursday with Jacky; Friday with Patty;
Saturday with Charles ; and with Emily and Sukey
on Sunday."

In later years, Sunday must have been a very
full day if all the little Wesleys came in for a share
of the mother's time. To "Jadcy" especially, the
recollection of this evening chat was always a
cherished memory; and Thursday seemed to him
ever afterward a mid-week Sabbath.

Music occupied no unimportant place in the
Epworth home, which has been likened to "a very
nest of songsters." Of all the children, John and
Charles were most musical, and both are said to
have been gifted with voices of remarkable sweet-
ness.

Of this interesting family, ten of the children
lived to reach adult years.

In John especially, when he was only a tiny lad,
did the mother recognize unusual gifts and great
mental endowment. In early childhood, he was
called on to pass through certain experiences which
seemed to develop in a marked manner the fineness
and nobility of his character. When four years of
age, he was stricken with smallpox, and so hero-
ically did the little fellow endure suffering that

142 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Susanna Wesley felt that the characteristics of the
child, displayed thus early, prophesied great things
for the man; and bespoke her intention of being
"most careful of the soul of this child/'

Among the principles which she laid down J. or
him, the following seems to have permeated his
entire life and guided every action: "Whatever
weakens your reason, impairs the tenderness of
your conscience, obscures your sense of God, or
takes off the relish of spiritual things — in short,
whatsoever increases the strength and authority of
your body over your mind, that thing is sin to you,
however innocent it may be in itself."

Many years afterwards, John Wesley paid
eloquent tribute to the teachings of his mother.
Speaking of her wonderful capability, he describes
her as writing, conversing, or transacting business,
surrounded by thirteen children!

When John was only six years old, the Epworth
parsonage was burned, and he narrowly escaped
death in the flames. Deeply impressed by his
miraculous escape, he always considered that he
was "as a brand plucked from the burning," and
providentially saved to accomplish a great work
for the world.

The mother, who so wisely ruled her household,
instructed her children, and ably transacted busi-

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 143

ness matters, seemed capable of meeting any cir-
cumstance which arose. Once when her husband
was detained in London on business, Susanna de-
cided to conduct special religious services for her
family, there being no afternoon nor evening
service at the Epworth Church. Others soon
learned of the meetings to be held, and numbers
sought admittance. Samuel feared that Susanna's
action might meet with the disapproval of the
Church, but hesitated as to what course of action
to pursue. The meetings soon grew to large pro-
portions, there being sometimes more than two
hundred in attendance ; and the sermons were com-
mented on as being the "best and most awakening"
the community had yet listened to.

The curate, however, became offended, and the
matter was referred to Mr. Wesley, who ordered
his wife to cease holding services, but said that, if
she so desired, she might procure someone to act
in her stead. Susanna argued her case by replying
that scarcely a man among those attending could
read intelligently, and while her boys might do the
reading in her place, they could not be heard by
all present ; that numbers had not been to church in
years, and that there was much evidence of good
being accomplished by the meetings held. She
remarked, however, that though she "would stop

144 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

at no man's grumbling, she would if he so com-
manded her, obey lawful authority"; adding that
he, as pastor and husband, must take upon himself
the responsibility in regard to having the meetings
cease.

The Wesley family was gifted richly in mental
endowments and ability — five of the ten children
who reached maturity being noted especially for
intellectuality and brilliancy of mind. John and
Charles are best known to the world ; and it is John
who has given greatest prominence to the name of
Wesley. From both mother and father he in-
herited boldness of spirit and Christian zeal; but it
was the mother's faithful training and guiding hand
that shaped his life, and stamped upon his char-
acter ideals of greatness. As philanthropist, writer,
evangelist, and founder of Methodism, John
Wesley lived for eighty-seven years, an honor to
his country and to the Christian faith.

To him the devoted mother was ever an object
of tenderest affection and reverence. It was
doubtless his high regard for her capabilities and
gifts of mind that led John Wesley to open a wider
sphere for woman, which admitted her to the pul-
pit. Of the women-preachers of that day, one of
the most notable was Dinah Evans, to whom George
Eliot has given a prominent place in literature as

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 145

one of the chief characters in "Adam Bede." Dinah
Evans was heard with greatest reverence by the
rudest crowds, and accomplished much for the
church in the early days of Methodism. Her hus-
band, Seth Evans, was known as a class-leader, and
their friendship began when he first heard her
preach.

The closing years of Susanna Wesley's life were
spent in the home of her son, John, in London.
Here, at the historic old Foundry Church, he
preached, and the aged mother manifested deepest
interest in his efforts to spread the gospel.

After a long life of usefulness, of greatest activ-
ity, and of unceasing zeal for the work of the king-
dom of Christ, Susanna Wesley, having passed
through the peaceful serenity of closing years con-
spicuous for their beauty and grace, reached the
completion of her days. Five daughters and the
beloved son, John, attended her deathbed, and, at
the request of the venerable mother, mingled their
voices in a "psalm of praise to God," as her spirit
took its flight.

In the life of Susanna Wesley, one may find a
faithful likeness of Solomon's pen-portrait of the
perfect woman. Certainly, as a type of the Chris-
tian mother in whose character are combined all

146 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

the traits and gifts which unite to make up a well-
rounded life, she approaches very near to this
standard of perfection.

V
MONICA

MOTHER OF
SAINT AUGUSTINE

LIKE the reflected glow from some brilliant
star which has long since vanished from
d the heavens, there comes through the mists
of intervening centuries, undimmed and serenely
beautiful, the life-story of Monica, mother of Saint
Augustine. Most striking and impressive is her
exhibition of the fathomless love and unbounded
devotion of motherhood.

The principal facts concerning the life of Monica
are culled from the autobiographical writings of
her gifted son, for their lives are so closely inter-
twined that the biography of one must include that
of the other. In the year 332 A. D., this remarkable
woman, whose life was destined to exert an in-
fluence which may well be said to be illimitable,
was born. Had the fourth century given to his-
tory as prominent figures, only Monica and the son
through whose fame she lives and is revered, it

148 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

would have sufficed to make that period a notable
one.

Not far from the ancient city of Carthage, in
Northern Africa, was located the old Roman town
of Thagaste, in the fertile province of Numidia;
and it was here that Monica was born. Her
parents, who were evidently people of noble rank
and affluence, exercised marked care and strict
discipline in the rearing and educating of their chil-
dren. Monica, as a child, was of an intensely
religious nature, and especially was she interested
in caring for the sick and needy, whenever oppor-
tunity afforded. Gentleness and calmness were
among her chief characteristics; and when at play
disputes arose among her little companions, it re-
quired but a word from Monica to bring about an
amicable adjustment. Thus the character of the
child foreshadowed that of the woman; and it is
not surprising that maturer years only added grace
and charm. Augustine, describing his mother says :
"She was of a highly intellectual and spiritual cast,
of most tender affection and all-conquering love."
And surely no description could be more true to
life, more swift to convey a correct impression of
one who so aptly serves as a model of saintly
womanhood.

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 149

An aged family servant, who had attended the
father in his infancy, was an important factor in
the family circle, and wielded an unrestrained in-
fluence over the entire household. Of this influence
upon Monica's early years, Augustine, in his "Con-
fessions," writes : "By exercising strict discipline
over her moral conduct, and using a holy prudence
in educating her, she inured the child's tender heart
to the practices of noble virtues. Between the hours
of her modest repasts at her father's table, she was
not permitted, were she thirsty, to touch a drop of
water," thus teaching her, in the most trivial mat-
ters, self-control and obedience. Augustine con-
tinues : "Behold, O my God, how Thou didst form
her, when neither father nor mother suspected
what she would one day be. Thou didst place her
cradle in the bosom of a pious family, one of the
best regulated in Thy holy church; and therein,
under the guidance of thy Divine Son, she grew
up in the fear of God, which is the beginning of
wisdom."

An incident related of Monica's childhood illus-
trates her determination to exert self-control in
every matter of life ; to avoid, as it were, even "the
very appearance of evil." As was the prevailing
custom of that time, young girls were instructed in
their homes in the duties of housekeeping; and

150 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

among various daily tasks, Monica, accompanied by
a maid-servant, was sent to the cellar to make pro-
vision of wine for the family. Not being permitted
to drink water between meals, she frequently took
a sip of wine to allay her thirst, and naturally be-
came very fond of it. One day when in the wine-
cellar, the servant noted with what eagerness
Monica quaffed off her little cup, and thoughtlessly
called her a "wine-bibber." The taunt struck deep
— Monica's pride was stung by this insult, and
henceforth she refused to taste wine, fearing that
an undue fondness might perhaps lead her, in real-
ity, to become a wine-bibber! In after years she
related this story to Augustine, adding that so zeal-
ous had she been in endeavoring to keep the vow
made in childhood, that even in the rites of the
church where wine was used, she barely touched it
to her lips.

At the age of twenty-two, Monica was married
to Patricius, who held the position of Curial, or
municipal magistrate in Thagaste. He was more
than twice her age, and possessed little wealth.
This union did not result in congenial married life,
for Patricius is described as a man of dissolute
character, "an unbeliever, of rude and passionate
sensibility," and as having little regard for the
Christian faith.

MOTHERvS OF GREAT MEN 151

To add to the sorrows of her new life, Monica
was compelled to make her home with her hus-
band's mother, a violent woman, with a most jealous
disposition. Even the servants of the home were
arraigned against Monica ; and it seemed, with such
surrounding conditions, that her cup was well-nigh
full. Instead, however, of seeking to avoid the
trials which beset her, she reasoned that God had
given Patricius to her that she might convert him
from a life of paganism to the Christian faith. She
became, as it were, a living martyr, and in gentle-
ness and lowliness of spirit endeavored to win her
husband from evil ways to a Christian life; and
also, to live peacefully with his mother. So tactful
and patient was Monica that the harsh mother-in-
law was by degrees won over by her sweet, un-
selfish spirit; and the two finally dwelt together in
perfect harmony. When in storms of passionate
temper Patricius raged, Monica spoke not a word;
when his sins were brought most vividly to her
attention, she suffered in silence — through prayer,
and by example she endeavored to exert an
influence more potent than that of words — religion
was not merely preached from her lips, it permeated
her entire life.

It was no unusual thing for women, even of high
rank, to be so maltreated by their husbands that

152 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

bruises frequently gave evidence of brutality; and
young friends of Monica often came to her with
bitter complaints of cruel treatment received. To
all, the admonition was alike, "Take care of your
tongues." And so perfectly was her own tongue
under control, that never, even when in his most
violent outbursts of temper, did Patricius strike his
wife, or attempt to do her personal injury. His
affection and respect for her unconsciously deep-
ened and increased, until gradually he became trans-
formed in heart and mind, though it required long
years of loyal devotion, patient waiting, and earnest
prayer, on the part of the wife, who lived all the
while amid conditions little conducive to happiness
or to the strengthening of her faith. Says Augus-
tine, referring to Monica and Patricius, "Every day
she appeared more beautiful in his eyes, and that
beauty born of virtue began already to gain for her
the respect and love and admiration of her hus-
band."

Amid the sorrows which darkened these early
years of womanhood, joy entered Monica's life in
the coming of three little ones to brighten the other-
wise cheerless home. The firstborn, Augustine, was
destined to become one of the world's immortals,
and is esteemed as the most eminent of the Latin
fathers. On the thirteenth day of November, 354

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 153

A. D., he came to gladden the heart of the mother
whose young life was well-nigh crushed beneath
its burden of sorrow.

The lives of Monica and her oldest son are
closely interwoven, and to him she gave of her
heart's deepest, tenderest affection. Tradition says
that before his birth she had a vision revealing the
great things he would one day accomplish, pro-
vided she should influence him to be faithful to
God. The responsibility of fulfilling this duty
seemed henceforth to be the foremost object of her
life, and she gave to it her constant thought and
endeavor.

The second son, Navigius, was of a gentle, retir-
ing disposition, and he never experienced the
storms which beset the elder brother's life. Con-
tinued ill-health caused him to spend much time
quietly at home, where he indulged his literary
tastes, and was the means of consoling and cheering
Monica during the unhappy experiences and
wanderings of Augustine. Though little is known
of the younger son, history records enough to prove
that Navigius was a decided contrast to Augustine,
not only in temperament and character, but also in
mental ability.

The daughter of Monica, Perpetua, is said to
have been, like her mother, of an extremely pious

154 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

nature. In early life, she married, and soon after-
ward was left a widow without children. After her
husband's death, Perpetua made her home with
Augustine; but from the day of his ordination he
permitted no woman, not even his sister, to dwell
under his roof, so she consecrated herself to the
religious life, and became superioress in one of the
convents founded by Saint Augustine. From the let-
ters of Augustine, we learn that he always gave to
his sister the title of saint, and regarded her with
deepest affection and respect. In Rome and other
places, many altars were dedicated to Navigius and
Perpetua, both of whom were held in high esteem
by the church.

At an early age, Augustine evidenced unusual
brilliancy of mind, and, both parents being ambi-
tious for his intellectual advancement, he was given
the best instruction available. Monica endeavored
to instill in him the principles of Christian man-
hood, but in this attempt she received neither assist-
ance nor encouragement from Patricius.

In Madaura, not far from Thagaste, were cele-
brated schools, and Monica accompanied Augustine
there to place him under the care of more learned
masters than his native town could afford. Having
counseled him with fervor, and shed many tears at
parting, she returned home to await with keen

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 155

anxiety the result of this step ; for Augustine, even
as a youth, was beginning to exhibit unworthy
traits of character, and was rapidly becoming
wayward. Although endowed with unusual gifts
of intellect, he early showed decided aversion to
study; and to avoid being forced to undergo what
was to him exceedingly distasteful, practiced decep-
tion in various ways, in order to mislead his parents
and teachers. This was a source of much grief to
Monica, and she often accompanied Augustine to
"men of prayer," that they might impart higher
ideals, and influence him to more exemplary habits.
"I learned of them/' writes Augustine, "to conceive
of Thee, O my God, as a supreme being, who with-
out appearing to our eyes can nevertheless come to
our aid. I commenced then to implore Thee to be-
come my refuge and support in my troubles, and
I prayed to Thee, child as I was, with no little
fervor, to save me from being whipped at school.
Alas ! Thou didst not always save me, and this
was for my good. And all, even my parents them-
selves, laughed at my terror of the ferrule — a
bagatelle to them, but for me, at that time, a great
trouble and terror."

Besides his aversion to study, other faults more
grievous and dangerous began to appear, for Augus-
tine had inherited many evil tendencies from his

156 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

father. Realizing the danger to which her son's
course might lead if not checked by some strong
and ennobling influence, Monica placed him in
school at Madaura, and afterwards in Carthage,
that he might have the best advantages of educa-
tion, and also complete removal from the undesir-
able influences which he sought in Thagaste. Hav-
ing done this, she applied herself more diligently
to prayer, relying in greater measure upon divine
assistance than upon human aid for the welfare
of her son.

During these years when Monica's heart was
filled with anxiety for Augustine, whose footsteps
were fast slipping into paths of temptation, she
had not been forgetful to intercede continually for
the conversion of her husband, and, at length, had
the great joy of seeing him accept Christianity.
Through seventeen years of married life, she had
prayed continually that Patricius might see the
error of his way, and now rejoiced to see her
prayers answered. Not long after his conversion,
Patricius died, and Monica in her sorrow shed
tears of joy that she had been permitted to be the
means by which he was led to renounce a sinful life.
Henceforth she gave herself more zealously to
bringing about the conversion of Augustine. Per-
ceiving that he easily mastered studies which at

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 157

times baffled the minds of his masters, new hope
sprang up within her, for she felt that the return
of Augustine to God would be commenced through
the study of science, and held strongly the belief
that whatever elevates the soul brings men nearer
to God. Knowing that Augustine cared little for
the Bible, she did not press on him the study of the
Scriptures. Tactful and patient, she relied upon
prayer and the example of a holy life to change the
heart of the son, as it had done that of the father.

In the "Confessions of Augustine" is related
most fully, and in a spirit of deepest humility and
atonement, the story of his life. He tells of boy-
hood days, when temptations drew him into evil
paths; of how gradually he became a slave to
wrongdoing; and finally gave himself up to a life
of wickedness and shame. Carthage at that time
was a city of much literary distinction, as well as
of marked moral depravity, and here Augustine
plunged into a life of unrestrained dissipation. He
still spent some time, however, in study, and his
intellectual powers continued to increase.

In his nineteenth year, he happened upon
Cicero's "Hortensius," and the dignity and import-
ance of philosophy stirred within him higher
thought and aspiration. While groping blindly for
the truth, he was drawn into the Manichean faith;

158 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

but after several years of adherence to this belief,
was finally convinced that it was a mere sham.

Through all the vicissitudes of his unworthy life,
Monica clung to her son, never ceasing to pray for
him, and never doubting that his feet would finally
be led into paths of truth and rectitude.

Learning of the arrival in Thagaste of a vener-
able bishop, Monica hastened to consult him with
regard to the course which she should pursue. With
tears she told of her son's sinful life, and especially
of his recent wandering into heresy. "Let him
alone," was the advice of the bishop; "only pray
fervently for him." Not satisfied with this advice,
Monica, weeping bitterly, sought further counsel.
The bishop then described his own life, which in a
way was similar to that of Augustine, and told how
he himself had been brought into the light through
continued study. Finally, he exclaimed, "Go your
way; it is impossible that the son of such tears
should perish !" These prophetic words seemed to
bring joy and comfort to the mother-heart, and she
accepted them, as if a voice from heaven had
spoken.

After several years' residence in Carthage,
Augustine decided to visit Rome, where he might
have greater advantages, both to pursue his studies
and to continue teaching. To this, Monica was

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 159

bitterly opposed, rightly judging that he would be
thus further removed from her, and that the slight
influence which she had hitherto exerted over him
would be entirely removed. Augustine was
obdurate, and finally resorted to a plan of decep-
tion by which he evaded her and departed. He
had promised not to leave Africa, but meantime
secretly made preparation to do so. A friend was
to embark, and Augustine asked permission to
accompany him to the shore, reiterating that he
had no intention of sailing. Monica, however,
was apprehensive, and accompanied them to the
vessel. It was late afternoon when they reached
the harbor, and on account of a high wind the ves-
sel did not sail at the appointed hour. Augustine
and his friend paced the shore, and Monica, grow-
ing weary, finally retired to a small chapel near-by,
where she passed the long hours in prayer and
tears. During the night, the wind changed, and the
boat set sail for Italy. In spite of the many
promises that he would not go, Augustine carried
out his original intention, and as the shore faded
from sight he could see in the distance the little
chapel where his devoted mother knelt in prayer,
ignorant of his departure.

When morning came, and Monica found that
Augustine had proved faithless to his word, she

160 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

was wild with grief, and attempted to secure pas-
sage on another boat in order to follow him; but
on calmer thought decided to return to her home
in Thagaste, where, says Saint Augustine, "until the
day of my conversion, she shed those floods of tears
with which she daily watered the spot where she
prayed for me." The thought of thus having
cruelly deceived his mother, and thereby causing
her more poignant pain than the act of leaving
openly against her wishes would have occasioned,
was ever afterward a source of remorseful grief to
Augustine; and the sting of deception remained
always a bitter memory, though he tried by con-
fession and by various ways to make full atone-
ment.

Augustine went first to Rome, and then to Milan,
wandering meanwhile "through the labyrinth of
carnal pleasures, Manichean mock-wisdom, aca-
demic skepticism, and Platonic idealism." Alter-
nately studying and teaching, his mind, though
dulled by dissipation, continued to develop and
expand, and he was regarded as a young man of
brilliant parts. During his residence in Rome,
Augustine suffered a severe illness from fever, but
gradually was restored to health. This recovery,
he afterward writes, was in order that he might
"live for God." On his renouncing the Manichean

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 161

faith, Monica's hopes gained encouragement that
her son might now become a Christian, and to this
end she prayed more earnestly night and day.

A year after Augustine's departure for Rome,
Monica resolved to join him there, and on arriving
found he had left for Milan. She continued her
journey to that place, and rejoiced to be again with
the son in whom centered her entire life.

Endowed with unusual mental gifts, Monica fre-
quently took part in conferences regarding
religious, scientific, and philosophical questions, in
which Augustine and various learned men were
participants. Her keenness of intellect, ready
speech, and depth of knowledge, made a profound
impression on all who heard her, and she was
regarded as a woman of remarkable learning.

Augustine was now about the age of thirty, and
had reached the darkest period of his life. The
terrible gloom of despair was settling over him;
and he was approaching a crisis which would mean
the final shaping of his eternal life. Monica, at
length, sought counsel with the noted Saint Ambrose
of Milan, and it was under his teaching and admo-
nition that Augustine was gradually led into a
knowledge of the truth.

At the age of thirty-three, the sinful life of the
past was renounced, and Augustine was baptized

162 MOTHERS OK GREAT MEN

by Saint Ambrose. Varied influences brought about
this changed life — the sermons of Ambrose, the
biography of Saint Anthony, the Epistles of Paul;
but no one can deny that, above all other means,
the tears and prayers of the faithful mother were
most effective. Through the long and weary years
when Augustine seemed only to be plunging deeper
and deeper into a life of shame and degradation,
and when prayer itself seemed vain, Monica
suffered not her faith to weaken, but continued in
earnest supplication to God, and in solemn argu-
ment with her son. Entering at length into the
light of the Christian faith, he utters that immortal
sentence, "Thou hast made us for Thyself, and
our heart is restless till it rests in Thee."

In the "Confessions of Augustine," written in
humility and deepest penitence, he has reared to his
mother a lasting memorial. Many beautiful
tributes are paid to her Christian character, and
reference made to her loftiness of mind, admirable
characteristics, and "praiseworthy habits." In re-
gard to his own wayward course, he says, she
wept to God in his behalf "more than most mothers
are wont to weep the bodily deaths of their chil-
dren." Adding, "For she saw that I was dead by
that faith and spirit which she had from Thee, and
Thou heardst her, O Lord."

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 163

While on her homeward journey, shortly after
the conversion of Augustine, Monica fell ill with
fever. Her life-work had now been accomplished,
and having seen her beloved son accept the Chris-
tian faith, she met death calmly and without the
desire to live longer. At Ostia, near the mouth of
the Tiber, Monica passed away, on the ninth day
of her illness, having reached the age of fifty-six
years. Augustine alludes to a conversation, held
with her shortly before her death, in regard to the
kingdom of heaven, and speaks of her words as be-
ing most precious to him. He endeavored to mourn
her without tears, deeming it not fitting in respect
to weep for one who had died so happily, and in
such confidence of eternal life ; but on the day fol-
lowing that of her death, he arose in the early
morning feeling most keenly his loss ; and "I let go
my tears," he says, "which I had kept in before,
that they might flow as much as they pleased, and
found rest to my soul in weeping for her who so
long had wept for me."

Just as the yearnings of her heart were realized,
the mother was claimed by death, caused, it is
thought, by the overpowering effect of the great
joy experienced on account of her son's conversion.

By the grace of God, the erring Augustine be-
came "an incalculable blessing to the whole Chris-

v

164 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

tian world, and brought even the sins and errors
of his youth into the service of the truth."
Throughout a long life he wrote and preached with
marked influence and power. The character and
works of Augustine are studied as among the most
notable and profound of all ages; and he is recog-
nized as one of the foundation stones of the
Protestant Church.

To the touching devotion and unceasing prayers
of his mother, Monica, Augustine attributes the
wonderful change which came into his life, by
which he was brought from degradation and
despair into ways of righteousness and peace. As
the names of mother and son are closely united
in the vicissitudes of life, so likewise in death are
they linked together, in union immortal, indis-
soluble.

VI

GLIMPSES OF THE MOTHERS
OF MANY GREAT MEN

FROM time immemorial, the maternal in-
fluence has been a controlling force in the
world's history. The holy-hearted Hannah
may well be given first place in the list of model
mothers ; and inscribed beneath her name the dedi-
cation to God of her infant son, Samuel:

"For this child I prayed, and the Lord hath
given me my petition which I asked of him, there-
fore I have lent him to the Lord. As long as he
liveth he shall be lent to the Lord."*

Only once is the evil withdrawn from the life of
Christ during the thirty years when he dwelt apart
from the world under the guidance of His mother's

*When Martin Luther for the first time discovered the Bible,
in the dark alcove of the library at Erfurt, he turned it open at
the story of Hannah and Samuel. He was enraptured with his
find, and with that great story — a story of motherhood — for he
had supposed, theretofore, the whole Bible to consist only of the
Gospels and the Epistles, which he had heard read at Mass. "Oh,
God," he murmured, "could I have one of these books, I would
ask no other worldly treasure." In recounting this incident,
D'Aubigne, in his History of the Reformation, naively remarks,
"The Reformation lay hid in that Bible."

166 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

eye. But can it be doubted that much of the
strength and peace and inner calm which were so
abundantly His, came to Him during those days
spent in the lowly home in Nazareth?

Though the silence of the centuries reveals little
concerning the mother, who, content to dwell in the
sanctity of the home, aloof from the world's
tumult, has sent forth her sons, strong and ready
for the duties of life, there may however be found
occasional glimpses which serve to portray the
immeasurable influence of motherhood. Some-
times it is the son speaking; but most often it is
the life of the son, which expresses more
eloquently than by power of language the worth
of a mother's devoted love, her watchful care, and
unparalleled self-abnegation.

Brief though these glimpses be into the charac-
ters of women whose sons have acquired fame,
they serve to give deeper insight into the lives of
their sons — and to explain, as it were, why certain
men have risen from the ranks of the common
people to be numbered with the world's immortals.

Anthusa, mother of Chrysostom, "the golden-
mouthed," was a pious woman, wholly devoted to
her son, who grew up under her loving instructions
into an earnest, gentle, and serious youth. He

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 167

passed through none of the wild, dark struggles
which left an ineffaceable impress on the soul of
Augustine, and which gave perhaps a too somber
tone to his theology. Chrysostom was first of all
a student; but with expanding powers of intellect
he caught the attention of the civilized world by
his wonderful power of oratory, and has left
written works which are esteemed superior to
everything of like kind in ancient Christian litera-
ture. To the precepts of his mother, and to her
training in early life, are traceable the gifts and
traits which distinguished his life.

Of Alexander the Great it is said : "Like almost
all men remarkable for either good or evil, Alex-
ander inherited from his mother his most notable
qualities — his courage, his intellectual activity, and
an ambition indifferent to any means that made for
his own end. Fearless in her life, she fearlessly
met death with a courage worthy of her rank and
domineering character, when her hour of retribu-
tion came ; and Alexander is incomprehensible till
we recognize him as rising from the womb of
Olympia."

Jeanne LeFranc Calvin, mother of John Calvin,
was noted for her great piety ; and also for her gift

168 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

of discretion, which is at all times to be esteemed
as a virtue of untold worth. In addition to the
gifts — both mental and spiritual — which she
possessed in marked degree, great personal beauty
added to her charm and attractiveness. From her
example, and from her teachings, John Calvin
drew much of the inspiration and stability of char-
acter which made his career so notable.

Ann Cooke Bacon, mother of Sir Francis Bacon,
was distinguished both as a linguist and as a the-
ologian. She corresponded in Greek with Bishop
Jewell; and so well versed was she in Latin that
she translated his Apologia with such a degree of
correctness that neither he nor Archbishop Parker
could suggest a single alteration.

In his adopted Fatherland, the memory of Wil-
liam the Silent is still passionately cherished. The
traits of character which so endeared him to the
people of Holland, were transmitted from his
mother, Juliana of Stollberg, from whom, history
records, he inherited his noblest gifts.

David Hume, historian, poet, philosopher, but
withal a skeptic, stated that the only argument for
Christianity which was to him unanswerable was
the beautiful and holy life of his mother.

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 169

Benjamin West in early childhood displayed
much artistic talent. Easily discouraged, however,
and subject to moods of depression, it was only by
reason of the constant encouragement and stimu-
lating counsel of his mother that he faced bravely,
and overcame, the difficulties which beset his way.
In later years, when his reputation as an artist was
established, he frequently said, "My mother's kiss
made me a painter!"

Said Richard Cecil : "I tried to be a skeptic
when a young man, but my mother's life was too
much for me."

Katharina Elizabeth Textor Goethe, the mother
of Johann Wolfgang Goethe, was of a singularly
bright and happy disposition. Married at the age
of seventeen to a man twenty-one years her senior,
she was in fact more nearly of an age with her
children than her husband; and through her com-
panionship with them kept their childhood sunny
and sweet in a home which would perhaps have
otherwise been too severely disciplined by the stern
father. The adoration of Goethe's mother for her
talented son savored almost of idolatry; and he in
turn was devotedly attached to her. "She furnished
him with the traits of character of Elizabeth in

170 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Goetz Berlichinzen, the amiable housewife in Her-
mann und Dorothea, and other attractive charac-
ters; her letters well justify the respect and affec-
tion with which Goethe always regarded her, and
account for many of the best qualities in her son's
intellectual endowment.

The letters of Frau Goethe to her son, and to
others of her relatives and friends, possess decided
literary merit. Sparkling at times with irrepressible
good-humor — again, tenderly sympathetic in tone,
or reverently solemn as she discusses serious ques-
tions, they portray throughout, her keenness of in-
tellect and optimistic spirit. To an intimate friend,
Frau von Stern, she gave a most excellent char-
acterization of herself : "I love my fellow-beings
dearly, and that I know is appreciated by young
and old alike; I live in the most unpretentious way,
which also pleases all the sons and daughters of
Eve. Nor do I set myself up as anyone's moral
critic, but rather seek to discover the good side of
people, leaving the bad to Him who created us, and
who best knows how to smooth off the rough cor-
ners ; and I find that this mode of life keeps me hale,
and happy, and contented." In a letter to Dr. Zim-
merman, who had been the physician of her
daughter, she wrote in her cheery manner in refer-
ence to his own ailment, hypochrondria, which was

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 171

so repugnant to her that she averred that she could
not bring herself to write the word:

"Feb. 16th, 1776. My Dear Doctor: — Your kind letter
gave me much pleasure in part. But — what I wrote you
in jest seems to be not entirely without foundation. You
are not well. Believe me, I am seriously alarmed about
you. Good heavens ! How comes such an excellent,
clever, delightful, splendid, dear, good man by this con-
founded illness ? I know a lot of rascals who ought to be
sick, for they are not of the slightest use to the world
whether they are asleep or awake. Dear Friend ! will you
take the advice of a woman, who it is true does not know
the first thing about the science of medicine, but who has
had the opportunity of close association with many people
who were similarly affected? I have always found that a
change of surroundings was the most effective cure. It is
not necessary to travel two hundred miles; but you must
get out of your four walls, into the open air, out into the
country, among people you like. Then hurl all his black
and gloomy thoughts right back at the devil !"

Many years after the death of Frau Goethe,
Zeller having asked to see one of her letters, Goethe
sent him one, and accompanied it with these words :
"Herewith I enclose one of my mother's letters, in
accordance with your wish. In it, in every line
she wrote, there is expressed the character of a
woman who had a strong and hearty life in the
Old Testament fear of the Lord, and full of trust

172 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

in the unchangeable God of the family, and of the
nation."

L,etizia Romolino Bonaparte, mother of Napoleon
Bonaparte, was high-spirited and energetic, possess-
ing great strength of character; and was likewise
endowed with unusual personal beauty. She fol-
lowed the changing fortune of her soldier-husband
as his camp was moved from place to place; and
it is not surprising that her son, nurtured amid such
environment, should choose a soldier's life. As a
child, Napoleon was of an imperious temperament,
and it was with difficulty that his mother finally
gained the ascendancy over him. In the heyday of
his glory, he said: "It is to my mother and her
good principles that I owe my fortune and all the
good that I have ever done." When his brilliant
career suddenly terminated, and he was consigned
to prison on lonely St. Helena, she begged to be
allowed to share his confinement with him; but to
this he would not consent.

Maria Madelena Beethoven, mother of L,udwig
von Beethoven, was a woman of much depth of
feeling and refinement. Condemned to a life of
great unhappiness by a worthless and dissolute
husband, she devoted herself to the education of

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 173

her son Ludwig, in whom centered all her hopes and
aspirations. She was especially ambitious for his
musical advancement, and continually held up be-
fore him his grandfather, from whom the boy in-
herited his remarkable talent. Of his mother, Bee-
thoven wrote: "She has been to me a good and
loving mother, and my best friend."

Lord Macaulay paid tribute to his mother in the
following words addressed to the young:

Young people, look in those eyes, listen to that dear
voice, and notice the feeling of even a touch that is be-
stowed upon you by that gentle hand. Make much of it
while yet you have that most precious of all gifts, a loving
mother. «Read the unfathomable love of those eyes; the
kind anxiety of that tone and look, however slight your
pain. In after life you may have friends ; but never will
you have again the inexpressible love and gentleness
lavished upon you which none but a mother bestows.
Often do I sigh in my struggles with the hard uncaring
world, for the deep, sweet scrutiny I felt when of an even-
ing, resting in her bosom, I listened to some quiet tale,
suitable to my age, read in her tender, untiring voice.
Never can I forget her sweet glances cast upon me when
I appeared asleep; never her kiss of peace at night. Years
have passed since we laid her beside my father in the cold
churchyard, yet still her voice whispers from the grave,
and her eye watches over me as I visit spots long since
loved by her memory."

174 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Of the lonely poet, William Cowper, it is said:
"His mother was a Donne, of the race of the poet,
and descended by several lines from Henry III.
When Cowper was six years old, his mother died;
and seldom has a child lost more, even in a mother.
Fifty years after her death he still thinks of her,
he says, with love and tenderness every day. Late
in his life, his cousin, Mrs. Anne Bodham, recalled
herself to his remembrance by sending him his
mother's picture. 'Every creature,' he writes,
'that has any affinity to my mother is dear to me,
and you, the daughter of her brother, are but one
remove distant from her; I love you therefore, and
I love you much, both for her sake and for your
own. The world could not have furnished you
with a present so acceptable to me as the picture
which you have so kindly sent me. I received it
the night before last, and received it with a trepi-
dation of nerves and spirits somewhat akin to what
I should have felt had its dear original presented
herself to my embraces. I kissed it, and hung it
where it is the last object which I see at night, and
the first on which I open my eyes in the morning.
She died when I completed my sixth year; yet I
remember her well, and am ocular witness of the
great fidelity of the copy. I remember, too, a
multitude of the maternal tendernesses which I

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 175

received from her, and which have endeared her
memory beyond expression. There is in me, I be-
lieve, more of the Donne than Cowper, and though
I love all of both names, and have a thousand
reasons to love those of my own name, yet I feel
the bond of nature draw me vehemently to your
side.' As Cowper never married, there was noth-
ing to take the place in his heart which had been
left vacant by his mother."

"My mother ! when I learned that thou wast dead,
Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed?
Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son,
Wretch even then, life's journey just begun?
Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unfelt, a kiss ;
Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss —
Ah, that maternal smile ! it answers — Yes.
I heard the bell toll'd on thy burial day,
I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away,
And, turning from my nursery window, drew
A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu !
But was it such? It was. Where thou art gone,
Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore,
The parting word shall pass my lips no more !
Thy maidens grieved themselves, at my concern,
Oft gave me promise of thy quick return.
What ardently I wished I long believed,
And disappointed still, was still deceived;
By expectation every day beguiled,
Dupe of tomorrow, even from a child.

176 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

Thus many a sad tomorrow came and went,
Till, all my stock of infant sorrows spent,
I learned at last submission to my lot,
But though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot."

Although a man may not be a Christian himself,
yet it is universally true that he desires that his
children be brought up in a Christian atmosphere.
When the hero of Ticonderoga (Ethan Allen) lay
dying, he was asked by his child whether he should
follow his own leanings toward atheism, or the
religious principles of his mother. The answer
came prompt and decisive, "Follow the principles
of your mother." This unwillingness to trust the
eternal destiny of his children to the uncertain
vagaries of his own belief is a striking proof of the
real power and truth of the religion of Jesus Christ.

Of the Presidents of the United States, besides
General Washington, there have been several who
have accorded their highest success in life to a
mother's training and influence.

To Abigail Adams belongs the unique distinc-
tion of being the wife of one President, and the
grandmother of another — a distinction unique in all
the history of the American nation. Her letters,
edited by her grandson, are marvels of wisdom and

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 177

virtue, and full of inspiration and direction toward
noble aims.

Thirty-five years after the death of Andrew
Jackson's mother, he repeated at a dinner given in
his honor, the following words of his mother:
"Andrew, if I should not see you again, I wish you
to remember and treasure up some things I have
already said to you. In this world you will have to
make your own way. To do that you must have
friends. You can make friends by being honest,
and you can keep them by being steadfast. You
must keep in mind that friends worth having will
in the long run expect as much from you as they
give to you. To forget an obligation, or to be un-
grateful for a kindness, is a base crime — not merely
a fault or a sin, but an actual crime. Men guilty
of it, sooner or later must suffer the penalty.

"In personal conduct be always polite, but never
obsequious. No one will respect you more
than you esteem yourself. Avoid quarrels as
long as you can without yielding to imposition, but
sustain your manhood always. Never bring a suit
at law for assault or battery, or for defamation.
The law affords no remedy for such outrages that
can satisfy the feelings of a true man.

178 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

"Never wound the feelings of others. Never
brook wanton outrage upon your own feelings. If
ever you have to vindicate your feelings or defend
your honor, do it calmly. If angry at first, wait
till your wrath cools before you proceed."

A visitor to the White House once commended
James K. Polk for his respect for the Sabbath day,
adding that it was highly gratifying to the religious
sentiment of the country. President Polk replied,
"I was taught by a pious mother to fear God, and
keep his commandments, and I trust that no cares
of a government of my own will ever tempt me to
forget what I owe to the government of God."

Abraham Lincoln, whose mother died when he
was a mere lad, always attributed to her his best
traits of character, and the development of the
highest good in his stern nature.

The mother of James A. Garfield was left a
widow with four little children, in what is known
as the "Wilderness," in the State of Ohio. Frontier
life was one of poverty, and the Garfield home only
a log cabin ; but the heroic young mother faced the
struggle, and reared her family in the midst of
great privation. She lived to see the youngest of
her children — James, who was left fatherless at

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 179

two years of age, at three years was introduced to
his books, and when ten years of age was assisting
in the manual labor of the farm — raised to the
highest position within the gift of his country. In
young manhood, while attending Williams College,
where he later graduated with high honor, James
Garfield daily read a chapter in the Bible — his
mother by previous arrangement reading the same
chapter at the same hour — thus keeping aflame her
teaching and the memory of her love.

a*

Alexander Dumas sprang into fame in the early
part of the nineteenth century as a writer of plays
which the leading French critic of the day termed
"A great historical achievement." On the night
when his first great drama was receiving the
plaudits of an enthusiastic audience, Dumas was
kneeling by the bedside of his dying mother, only
withdrawing occasionally to hear how the play was
being received. His deep devotion to her was
stronger than a desire for the world's acclaim and
commendation.

The mother of John Louis Rudolph Agassiz,
having lost four children prior to his birth, watched
over her little son with much solicitude. She

180 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

seemed to understand him thoroughly, and to know
that his love of nature and of all living things was
an intellectual tendency, and not simply a child's
inclination to make friends and playmates of the
things about him. In later life, it was the sympathy
of the mother which gave to the lad the key to his
chosen profession. Throughout his life she re-
mained his most intimate friend and companion.
Her counsel to him was, "To do all the good you can
to your fellow-beings, to have a pure conscience, to
gain an honorable livelihood, to procure for yourself
'by work a little ease, to make those around you
happy — that is true happiness ; all the rest but mere
accessories and chimeras.

In the mother of Alfred Tennyson, one finds a
gentle and most imaginative woman. This last
named quality descended in fullest measure upon
her gifted son, who inherited also her sunny dis-
position and serenity of temperament,

Leah Salomon-Bartholdy Mendelssohn, mother of
Felix Mendelssohn, was a woman of a diversity of
talents, to whom her sons and daughters owed
much of their love for the artistic and beautiful,
Felix Mendelssohn has been accounted "fortunate"
in possessing a mother of such exceptional ability,

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 181

and of marked depth of feeling. From her he
received his first music lessons, which lasted only
five minutes. Gradually the time was prolonged;
and as he practiced, she sat near the piano, busy
with her knitting.

In addition to his musical education, Mrs.
Mendelssohn was careful to see that her son
obtained a good general education, knowing that
his happiness would be greatly increased by an
interest in diverse things, thus preventing the pos-
sibility of ennui and mental stagnation.

Chorley, the well-known musical critic of that
period, says of her: "There have lived few women
more honorably distinguished than she was by
acquirement, by that perfect propriety which Horace
Walpole has justly called the grace of declining
life; by a cordial hospitality, the sincerity of which
there was no mistaking; by an easy humor in con-
versation, and a knowledge of men and books. She
possessed a fund of intelligence, a habit of mind
bred amongst constant intercourse with the best
things of all countries, which belonged to herself
and remained with her to the last."

The mother of Robert Moffatt possessed more
than the usual piety of a Scotch woman of the time
in which she lived. In spite of very limited oppor-

182 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

tunities, she was exceedingly intelligent, and kept
herself well-informed regarding the great move-
ments of the world; especially did she take a lively
interest in spiritual affairs, and missionary inter-
prises, which were at that date only in their in-
fancy. Seated about the open fire on long winter
evenings, Robert Moffatt, knitting with his brothers
and sisters, first heard from his mother's lips that
there were heathen in the world, and of efforts be-
ing made to send them the Gospel. The impression
made upon him in childhood, of the need of foreign
missionaries, influenced the life of Robert Moffatt
to such an extent that he became the pioneer of
modern missionary work in South Africa, giving
fifty-four years of intense service to the work. It
was by his influence that David Livingstone (after-
ward his son-in-law) was led to give his life to
Africa.

Thomas Henry Huxley, referring to his mother,
says : "Physically and mentally I am the son of my
mother so completely — even down to peculiar move-
ments of the hands, which made their appearance
in me as I reached the age she had when I noticed
them — that I can hardly find a trace of my father
in myself except an inborn faculty for drawing,
which unfortunately in my case has never been cul-

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 183

tivated, a hot temper, and that amount of tenacity
of purpose which unfriendly observers sometimes
call obstinacy."

Emerson, whose mastery of the English language
has been acknowledged to be unsurpassed, states
that his style was derived in large measure from the
constant reading and study of the Bible which was
required of him by his mother. Of her, Dr. Froth-
ingham writes: "Ruth Haskins, the wife of Wil-
liam, and mother of Ralph Waldo Emerson, was a
woman of great patience and fortitude, of the
serenest trust in God, of a discerning spirit, and a
most courteous bearing; one who knew how to
guide the affairs of her own house, as long as she
was responsible for that, with the sweetest author-
ity, and knew how to give the least trouble and the
greatest happiness after that authority was resigned.
Both her mind and her character were of a superior
order, and they set their stamp upon manners of
peculiar softness and natural grace, and quiet dig-
nity. Her sensible and kindly speech was always as
good as the best instruction; her smile, though it
was ever ready, was a reward."

Lord Wolseley touched the keynote of many a
soldier's life when he said: "Poets imagine that

i&4 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

men say to themselves the night after a battle,
'What will they say in England?' I believe that
by far the largest portion of men think of their
mother, and of her valued love for them. At least
it has been so all my life."

James Whistler has put upon canvas the likeness
of his mother ; and the serenity and calmness, so well
portrayed, present a faithful presentation of peace-
ful declining days.

In "Margaret Ogilvy," J. M. Barrie gives a pen-
portrait of his mother, who, like the typical Scotch
housewife, finds her highest happiness in the busy,
sheltered home-life. Her keen interest and pardon-
able pride in her son's literary talent cannot be sup-
pressed, in spite of the diligent effort on her part
to assume indifference.

Admiral Farragut, in his Journal, tells of the
wonderful bravery of his mother in the early days
of the settlers in America. On one occasion, when
she was left at home with only her little children, a
party of Indians came to the house, which was
located in an isolated section of country, and sought
admission. With a heroism born of necessity, Mrs.
Farragut barred the door in the most effectual man-
ner she could devise, and sent all the trembling little

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 185

ones up into the loft, while she remained to guard
the entrance with an ax. The savages attempted to
parley with her, but she kept them at bay until they
finally decided to depart, leaving her and her family
unmolested. This act of heroism on the part of a
woman, and that woman his own mother, ever after-
ward stamped itself upon the life and character of
her son, who in later years was to take an impor-
tant part in the naval affairs of the country.

Seldom has the devotion of a son been more
admirably portrayed than by Robert E. Lee for the
invalid mother to whom he states that he owed
everything. Left fatherless at the age of eleven,
Robert, in the absence of older brothers and sis-
ters, relieved his mother of many of the duties of
the home, and also of outside cares, as far as it was
within his power to do so. As housekeeper, he
carried the keys and did the marketing, attended to
the horses, and accompanied his mother for a drive
each day. When leaving home to take up his
studies at West Point, his mother declared that she
could not live without him ; and it was only a short
time after his graduation that he was summoned to
her deathbed.

Among the many virtues which this excellent
mother instilled into her son were self-denial and

186 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

self-control, both of which he possessed to a marked
degree.

Dwight L. Moody, America's greatest evangelist,
ascribed to his mother the shaping of his life for
effective service in the gospel ministry. His deep
love for her, his admiration for her spirit of hero-
ism, and appreciation of her struggle to rear nine
children in spite of abject poverty, caused him to
love her with a devotion little short of idolatry.

Once, while holding services in Cambridge, Eng-
land, where the students seemed utterly irrespon-
sive, Moody bethought himself of his own mother,
and of a mother's wonderful influence. He called
a prayer-meeting for mothers one afternoon, in
Alexander Hall, to pray for university men as
"some mother's son." Three hundred mothers at-
tended, and Moody often afterwards referred to
this meeting as unique in his long service. Mother
after mother, amid her tears, raised fervent pray-
ers to heaven. That night the tide turned, and
during the remainder of the meeting scores of
young men were brought into the kingdom of God.

At his mother's funeral, standing by her coffin,
and holding in his hands the old family Bible and
well-worn book of devotions, Moody, in his char-
acteristically simple but beautifully impressive way,

MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN 187

paid eloquent tribute to the worth of a good
mother, giving as example the life of his own
mother, whose children's highest privilege he
deemed was now to arise and call her blessed.

The biographer of Ethelbert Nevin says : "Cer-
tainly rarely between mother and son have the
parental ties persisted so intensely. More truly
than of most sons may it be said that his life was
a prolongation — an admiration of hers. He
thought of her always ; he lived in her ; they were
never disassociated; and only by a little while did
he survive her death."

Never was there a stronger bond of affection be-
tween mother and son than between Thomas Alva
Edison and his mother. Speaking of her once
after her death, he said: "I did not have my
mother very long, but in that length of time she
cast over me an influence which has lasted all my
life. The good effects of her early training I can
never lose. If it had not been for her apprecia-
tion and her faith in me at a critical time in my
experience, I should very likely never have become
an inventor. ) You see my mother was a Canadian
girl, who used to teach in Nova Scotia. She be-
lieved that many of the boys who turned out badly

188 MOTHERS OF GREAT MEN

by the time they grew to manhood, would have been
valuable citizens if they had been handled in the
right way when they were young. Her years of
experience as a school teacher taught her many
things about human nature, and especially about
boys. After she married my father, and became a
mother, she applied that same theory to me. I was
always a careless boy, and with a mother of differ-
ent mental caliber I should have probably turned
out badly. But her firmness, her sweetness, her
goodness, were potent powers to keep me in the
right path."